A World Worth While
by ii. The Addict .ii
Summary: Yuuri Kastuki has retired from ice skating after winning his Grand Prix. Deciding that, life would be better without his coach, he goes off into the world living a simple life. Until that is... he realizes he needs someone even more than before. [AU, YuuriXViktor, Viktuuri Yaoi]
1. Hapless

_**Well, I'm back! It's Rhye again. I decided that I'd do another story with Yuuri and Viktor since they've made life a whole lot brighter now. But this one will be more of a full-on story. I don't know if it'll be considered an AU due to them being older and mature. However, I'll just get to it by saying I hope you enjoy and review if you'd like.**_

 _ **No I don't own Yuri! On Ice, or any characters and/or original plot, nor will I claim it as mine. I just make stories. There will be sexual themes, and behaviors, along with suggestive language.**_

 ** _Happy reading._**

* * *

 _..._

It had to have been at least five years after Yuuri skated his last Grand Prix—and it was one of the more enjoyable times in his life. He remember the dozens of tears he shed that night and how proud he was to possibly make it that far. He remembers the euphoria he felt when that shining gold medal, was placed around his neck, cheeks high and sore from smiling. The cheers and screams, chants of Yuuri's name echoing about the arena, his ears ringing with delight. The flowers and gifts thrown at him from about—showered with praise and love from people above and beyond his little town in Kyuushu. He couldn't exactly remember the outfit he wore, but, he did remember the sequin fluttering about his eyesight.

And then—Viktor. He stood tall, blonde hair glowing with camera flashes, and beaming spotlights. His ivory skin took on a godly aura, that just tapered down to his waist. The smile—definitely the smile—was something Yuuri could never forget. The world stopped moving whenever Viktor looked at Yuuri with those cyan irises, peering into the very windows of his soul. Yuuri reveled in the sight. Viktor wouldn't stop holding him. Whether it was from happiness, or some other form of excitement, none of it mattered. Because Yuuri won. And all goals were accomplished.

But, that night seemed so far gone, since Viktor left for Russia—and, even more-so, since Yuuri decided to retire at the young age of twenty six.

And life... continued on as normal as it possibly could. After a hug, and maybe a few kisses good-bye; Yuuri left home and went out on his own. Viktor, sadly enough, was like a beautifully lucid dream. Those times they shared together were now, regrettably, a thing of the past. It was time to grow up, and be on his own. No longer hiding underneath the shadow of his childhood; but, to start anew in adulthood.

Now, Yuuri lives alone, in a single-family home. He works from day-to-day, not that he needs to. Why, with the money given to him from the Grand Prix, there's no necessary means as why he chose to. And the day is usually the same. He gets up, showers, and goes to work within the city. Crowded trains, and bustling city streets, all seem blurry as he thinks on it.

Fate, apparently, had its way on his life.

 _..._

"Yuuri... Hey, _Yuuri_!"

A high-pitched voice interrupted his thoughts, forcing Yuuri to come back to reality.

"O-Oh, uh, y-yes?"

The voice sighs. "Jeez, Yuuri it's like I can barely reach you now! You're always staring into space!"

"I'm sorry, Miyumi-san, I've just been swamped with work and everything; it's kind of stressing me out."

Miyumi, was a good friend of Yuuri's. Every day, they rode the train together, talking and chatting among themselves. She's a short girl, for twenty-five years old, and her hair near to her back. It's a dark brown, nearly, brunette. Deep brown eyes, that compliment ambient tan skin, with a skinny frame. She isn't a love interest—yet, Yuuri can admit, that she is the first one he'd think of. She's someone that keeps him company, so it's good to have her around.

"You shouldn't even be working anyway! You've got all that cash and _still_ choose to work? Ha, you're better than me. I could never do it. I'd move out the country before I'd even think of it."

Of course, Yuuri isn't materialistic. He's just grateful for the things he has already. It didn't matter. The money wouldn't stay forever; besides, being at home alone, can get pretty dull.

"It's not about the things I've won. That won't be with me forever. So I have to keep going. I can't just stop in the middle being content in that state. I just... have to keep going."

Miyumi, while impressed by the man's words, was still unmoved. "—Hmph! I could never do it. You're such an admirable guy, Yuuri. Why haven't you had a girlfriend yet? Like seriously..."

"W-what does that matter? E-even if I did have a girlfriend, th-that wouldn't change much of anything..."

The brunette chuckles. "You're so funny Yuuri—ah! My stop is here, I've got to go, I'll see you tomorrow evening!"

The train approaches her stop. The doors open, and most of the people, get off in droves. Yuuri finds a seat, and grabs it, resting his bag on the open seat next to him. He opens up his phone, looking to pass the time. The quickest and most time-consuming thing pops up—social media. He clicks on one of the apps. It opens, and slowly, he begins scrolling through the posts.

He keeps going until he stops past a photo of Viktor. He'd forgotten that he still followed him. The man's hair, was a little bit longer, his bang just underneath his upper lip. It appeared that Viktor never aged from the last time Yuuri saw him. Skin still flawless, retaining that ivory glow. His shoulders broadened out some, and his body, toned to completion. And—standing right beside him, was none other than Yuri Plisetsky. At a point in time, Yuuri was his rival.

Again, as time would have it, things changed. Plisetsky, now twenty years of age, had shorter hair that complimented his slim face and adorning blue eyes. His slender frame, and long legs, accompanied his height. He was also competing in his fourth Prix. He's been at it ever since Yuuri left.

To top it off, Viktor is now his coach. After Yuuri left, Viktor went his own route, coaching and choreographing new sequences for the upcoming Plisetsky. Really, things changed, and Yuuri had to acknowledge it.

Even within himself he saw it. Yuuri's hair now touches his ears. His face has filled out, slimming down into a more, mature frame. His muscular appearance is something to be admired, how his chest somewhat pokes through his shirt and arms slightly toned from exercise. His entire body for that matter, was nothing less than precise.

However, one thing still remained—his personality. He was still that shy, and awkward boy from his younger years, and at times it was seen through conversation. He couldn't help it. It was something that would possibly stay with him. But the only one who could change it was Viktor. Only he saw that confidence, and that slight seductiveness to him. He was the only one that could bring it out of him.

Still, Yuuri just put the phone away, and got ready to leave the train. The walk home would be long.

 _..._

Yuuri had a lot on his mind. Today, was the day—that he won the Grand Prix. The anniversary was today. And he had no one to celebrate it with, other than his family. However, Yuuri wasn't too keen on celebrating this day. Because, even though it was a marvelous thing; there were some bitter feelings in his heart that never left.

He felt regret within himself. Deep down, there was unfinished business he had with Viktor. It was unfair. That what happened _that_ day had to occur. Things were said and done that should've never been. Yet he never apologized. It wasn't because he didn't want to. There's apprehension. Ever since that time, Yuuri hasn't tried to contact Viktor. Or maybe, he's attempted, and his anxiety took control of his thinking—which in turn, meant absolutely nothing. There would be something telling him to, just for once, contact his former coach.

But, there was no denying, that Yuuri was terrified of the outcome. What would he say? What would he do? How would he react?

It dawned on him every time he picked up his phone and tried to dial that number. It was no use. He was just too afraid. And every time he thought of Viktor, a sharp pain ran through his veins, gripping his heart. It hurt.

Because it didn't have to be this way. In a world without him.

* * *

 _ **Yup. You guessed it. It's a cliffhanger. Well, I certainly hoped you enjoyed this chapter. As the story continues, the plot will explain itself, for those of you who are confused. Yet this is what I intended to happen. With that being said, I'll be releasing a second chapter for this sometime in the near future. Leave reviews if you'd like.**_

 _ **See yah,**_

 _ **Rhye.**_


	2. Forced Happiness

_**I'm back again. I see I got a couple reviews (which is quicker than normal) today. I'm glad people are actually enjoying this. As I've said before, the plot will explain itself as the story continues. Here is the second chapter. Happy reading!**_

* * *

 _..._

It was the start of a new day. However nothing would change. Life, still, had this repetitive order to it. Getting up, showering, eating, running so he'd catch the next train. Yuuri admitted, this type of thing got trite after a while, however it's the life he wanted. He couldn't say that it wasn't satisfying, granted how he's managed to make friends, and keep them. It did cross his mind whether his friends were there just because of money—or even to say that they met someone with fame. It sat there constantly, becoming quite the nuisance, his mind toyed with the idea nearly every day. It was better for him to just drown the thought out with some music, while on the train to his destination.

While standing in his normal spot, at the very front of the train, he completely ignores everyone around him. He's lost in the music—and in his thoughts. He still can't help but get a glimpse of his former coach. He couldn't forget the pain that was there. That bitter taste he got in his mouth when he thinks about what he said to the older man. It ate at him, like an open wound—slowly rotting away—hour to hour, day-by-day. He couldn't help himself. He thought it odd; he was thinking about Viktor more than usual. Assuredly the blonde would pop up here and there, but especially these past few days were significantly trying.

Everything they did together, all the jovial memories that found their way at the forefront of his mind—it miffed him, every time. It never failed. Something about Viktor, seeing him, being beside him; meant something to Yuuri. Maybe, he thought, it would be better to live this kind of life unattached. Unlike a leech, sucking up all essence, out the blonde. Maybe that's what it was.

Before he could even go deeper in his conscious, came across three light taps to his left shoulder. Quickly he glances over, finding Miyumi standing close to him, nearly pressed against his chest.

"Hi!"

She smiled and waved at the older man, not even knowing his headphones were in his ears.

"Oh, hey—"

Yuuri took the headphones out, and placed them in his coat pocket, where his phone was located. He was definitely surprised by her presence, at this time of morning too.

"—Wait; aren't you supposed to be at home? What're you doing here this early?"

"Supposedly, most parts of Tokyo are shut down. There's going to be some famous person coming into town, er, something like that."

The brunette showed little care, rolling her eyes and shaking her head. It was more of a headache, how traffic got crowded and stations were shutdown, causing her to interrupt her normal schedule for something so menial.

"I see."

"Is that what it was like for you Yuuri? Seeing all those people crowd around you like that, cutting off entire streets for you?"

Yuuri laughed to himself. "I guess you could say that. I didn't really think much of it; you can't see past camera flashes, or hear for that matter, since there were so many people screaming. Those days are like a blur to me."

"See, Yuuri, that's why I think you're such a great person. You didn't let the fame get to your head, you just kept what you had in mind, and stuck with it."

A little blush creeps across Yuuri's face. He adjusts his glasses. "A-Ah well, th-thank you. I-I appreciate that."

"No need to feel shy. It's just a compliment, silly!"

He couldn't tell her that he felt odd about compliments. Viktor was one for doing that. The feeling it gave him inside, was something that he couldn't repeat. This jittery feeling inside his stomach that would never leave. Even today it still got to him.

"I know. Oh, look it's our stop. You ready?"

"Yup! Always!"

The duo left the train, after it came to a complete stop. They melted into the crowd that brought them into the city.

 _..._

Both Yuuri and Miyumi approached the building. He held the door open for her, while she thanked him. Yuuri followed in shortly after, Miyumi going into one room, and Yuuri going into another. Quickly he changed his clothes, into grey sweatpants and a black V-neck t-shirt. He put on some dirty black converse, putting his day clothes in his bag and stuffing it into a locker. He came out around the same time Miyumi did. The pair opened another door, that led them to a large room with a waxed wooden floor. The room was lit up by the morning sun shining through the windows, and the mirrors on the opposite side illuminating it.

Yuuri's passion, really, was dance. So, why not become a ballet teacher? It was something that passed the time. He got paid decent money. Also, he'd done it as a means to correct his form for skating. He also did a good thing for business; since he's one of the most popular skaters, next to Viktor and Plisetsky, more people come to be trained underneath him.

As for Miyumi; she was his assistant, as well as his good friend. She, too, had experience with ballet and graduated from college with a degree in performing arts. Yuuri picked them wisely. He could say he got this ability from Viktor. Seeking out those with potential, and taking them in without even knowing them first.

"What kind of group are we getting in today?" Yuuri asked, while stretching his legs on the wooden bar against the wall.

"The same from yesterday. They all need to work on their form! I don't know about you, but being stiff as a board when dancing? It's so ugly, ugh!"

"I can agree. They're new though, can't you cut them some slack?"

"—Cutting them slack will only make them stiffer! We need them to be as graceful as a swan, but, powerful in their movements just as a lion!"

Yuuri just shakes his head at the brunette making animated movements with her words. It reminded him of Viktor. He just couldn't help but laugh at her.

"You're crazy."

"I'm not crazy! I'm just dedicated Yuuri. Dedicated to my work is all. I have a degree in this after all!"

Yuuri just smiled at the brunette. He watched her delicately tie her hair into a bun. It was a sight to see, how her hair wrapped around itself, each strand looking a different color than the other. She looks back and winks at him.

Just after their conversation, the group of females and a couple males come into the room. They all politely greet one another. The atmosphere in the room is light and friendly.

Even though the days are long; with something like this on his belt, it makes it easier.

 _..._

It was about five approaching six in the evening when Yuuri and Miyumi finished their session. They both talked their way to the train station. Eagerly they awaited, so that they could return home and begin the day again tomorrow. Once they boarded, the pair took their familiar place standing in the middle where most of the people crowded around the sides.

"Ahh, that was a lot of work..." Miyumi sighed, putting a hand against her head.

"Hey, you said that they needed to improve their form..."

Miyumi pouted, making somewhat of an objecting noise to Yuuri's statement. Once again, he just smiled at the younger woman's familiar behavior.

"Look, I didn't think it would take that long either. I assuredly didn't think you bring them to the brink of tears like that either... you're scary, Miyumi."

"Did not! I was just making sure that they'd do it right. You can't make it tripping up on your own two feet! Besides I—"

Miyumi's words stopped in her throat once the train came to an immediate stop. And neither one of their homes were near this place. The announcer's voice came over the intercom.

" _Attention, all passengers, due to a track malfunction we will not be continuing service past Tokyo-U and Kyushuu. We are sorry for the inconvenience."_

The train erupted into disappointed cries and grunts of displeasure. Miyumi and Yuuri both were affected, because their stops were in both those places.

"Seriously! How am I going to get home now? I'm at least an hour away! Bahh, oh well, guess I'm taking a taxi. Yuuri what about you, how will you get home?"

Yuuri knew that his home was closer to Kyuushu and that was nearly three hours away. "Hmm. I guess I'm going to have to be at a hotel until this gets fixed. Not one taxi will take me out that far. I guess this is good-bye here."

The train doors open and people flooded out the train onto the platform. Yuuri and Miyumi were separated. Many of them called their families to come and get them, others just exited the train station, and went to hail a taxi. Yuuri on the other hand, walked away from the crowd, trying to remember where the nearest hotel was to his location.

He continued walking for maybe another fifteen minutes. He saw one in the distance.

"Ah, thank God," Yuuri blew out a sigh in relief, "I thought this would take forever."

Yuuri was comfortable walking the streets of Tokyo. And it was that comfort, that made a forceful hand grab him from the darkness, pulling him around into a dark alleyway. He was pinned up against a wall, the lights illuminating their silhouettes. The scream caught in his throat when he saw that this person had a mask over their face. And he also had friends. They all laughed menacingly, their eyes full of mischief.

"Hey... we know who you are. You're that ice-skater." The assailant laughed, pinning Yuuri's wrists to the brick wall. "Please, don't do anything you'll regret."

His knuckles threatened to bleed, with how they scraped against the concrete. The pain in his wrists traveled throughout his body, and stomach dropped from immense fear of getting hurt.

"Wh-what... do you w-want from me!"

"Oh, well that's quite obvious—hey, come check his pockets."

He called to one of his men to search Yuuri. The assailant was a thief. Not only did they follow Yuuri to his location, but they had a plan—and that was to rob him of everything he had. There was nowhere to run. Yuuri could only stand there. The other two men had weapons—one with a club, and the other, a Taser to knock him out. The scream that was held in his throat prodded at his lips. He knew that if he stood there any longer, he'd be taken advantage of.

"Help me! Someone please!"

Yuuri shouted to the top of his lungs. When all else failed, he did the one thing that was—in his mind—safest to do. Unfortunately, this cost him dearly. And with that scream came a reeling fist into his gut, forcing a cough so harsh—it rattled his skull upon instant execution. His knees hit the ground, and right after, another punch came across the side of his head, urging the rest of his body to fall forward. His sight blurred and hearing dulled. He felt the men digging in his pockets.

As Yuuri began to pass out, and the pain surged from his stomach, he caught the men trying to run away. That is, until another figure appeared. But, Yuuri couldn't stay conscious enough to see who it was.

* * *

 _ **I'm finished. Now for those of you who are still confused, the story won't start out with conflict between the main characters. It will all be explained later on. But for now, just enjoy this cliffhanger I made for you :D. I hope you enjoyed it and come back to read more.**_

 _ **See yah,**_

 _ **Rhye.**_


	3. Nostalgia, maybe?

**_Hey there. I hope you enjoyed the last chapter. Yes, it got a little dark, but you have to understand what category this story is underneath. At any rate, I will continue on, and say happy reading. Enjoy the third chapter!_**

* * *

 _..._

Yuuri slowly began to open his eyes. He heard the faint sound of a TV playing in his ears. There were also numerous voices, and what sounded like a heart monitor, beeping in the background. Once the blurriness cleared, he took in his sights, what appeared to be a bright light that blinded him again for a moment. Panning his eyes over to his left, there was a wooden door, that was closed. In front, just above his feet, was a rectangular window—and outside, people walking around in white coats, some with blue scrubs underneath. He lifts his hand to see an IV attached to it, fluid running through his veins.

The dark haired man took his time sitting up. For the pain from that night's endeavor, still weighed heavy on his flank and stomach. He saw his glasses placed on his right—taking them, and putting them in their rightful place, on the bridge of his nose. It appeared to be that, Yuuri was in a hospital bed. And how long he'd been there was that of a mystery.

Still, he tried to get up, but the searing pain in his ribs caused him to stay stationary. He placed a hand over the affected area, hoping that someone, _anyone_ would explain what happened. Just as the thought crossed his mind, a doctor came to the door, and opened it.

He is a medium-sized man, with short-length black hair, and dark brown eyes. His skin is slightly tanned, and his lab coat seemed to flutter as he walked. The suit he had on was kempt and most definitely something to keep note of.

"Ah, you're finally awake I see." The doctor smiled at Yuuri, while scribbling something in his clipboard.

"Y-yes I am. Uh, if you don't mind me asking, how did I get here? And how long have I been here?"

"—You've been out cold for at least two days. I'm surprised you're even sitting up, considering that you've got some bruised ribs. I'd recommend you keep a steady pace; or the pain may just get worse. As for how you got here, the man who brought you here is in the restroom. He said he knew you, Katsuki-kun."

Thoughts swirled in his mind. He couldn't believe that he'd been asleep for two days, missing out on ballet lessons, wasting time. Yet there was nothing he could do. He could only wait. He also wondered who the person was that brought him to safety. There wasn't anyone he knew that lived in Tokyo. Unless it was one of his students—there was no way to know who it was that did it.

From the door on the other side of him, he heard the muffled noise of a toilet flushing. The water in the sink ran, and the sound of the hands dipping into the sink. Paper towels being ripped from the dispenser and thrown away. The knob to the door twisted. And the person he saw, took his breath away.

The platinum-blonde hair, with a bang that rests just below the upper lip. Cyan irises, high cheek bones, and ivory skin. The broad shoulders, body toned to perfection. The man wore casual clothes—light-colored jeans with a black t-shirt, and some tennis shoes. And this person opened his mouth, voice trembling with excitement.

"Y-You're awake! Oh, I was so scared, I-I didn't think you were going to wake up!"

Yuuri couldn't believe it. It was like a dream, that, he didn't want to wake from. That—if he blinked for a moment—he'd just disappear. He finally found the name that etched itself into his mind constantly.

"...Vi-Viktor?"

Viktor pulled up a chair, and sat beside the darker-haired man, whose mouth still hung open in amazement. Viktor's smile widened once Yuuri uttered his name and it seemed to bring tears to his eyes.

"Yuuri I'm so glad I found you. Oh, here! I meant to give this to you."

From his pocket, he pulls out Yuuri's wallet and house keys. The younger man appeared to have another emotion besides astonishment, taking the items from Viktor's hand. It seemed that Viktor was the fourth dark figure that Yuuri saw last before he passed out.

"Y-You... were the one that brought me here? H-how'd you even know I was in that alley?"

"From my hotel. I was leaving the lobby, when I saw those men pull you into the alley. At first it was so dark I couldn't even recognize you. But then, once I fought them off, with the help of a couple other folks, I managed to get you out of there and recover your items."

"—You mean... the hotel just down the street? You-you're staying there?"

All the pieces fit together in precise order. It all made sense. Viktor was the famous person coming into town. And, he was in Tokyo, sitting right beside Yuuri. Talking to him, and caring for him, just as he did before. He'd be lying if he said that it was unwanted. The words wanted to rush out but he just let them stay.

"Th-thank you... I really appreciate that. I-I'm surprised that my glasses didn't break..."

"They did." Viktor held up the pair of badly damaged frames in his other hand. "I had them replaced. I also covered the medical bills. Everything is okay Yuuri."

The dark haired man choked on his next sentence. It was amazing. Seeing Viktor here, nearly five years later, was something so astonishing that it just made Yuuri speechless. His personality hadn't changed; yet, it seemed that he matured. Even more-so than before. His heart was thumping loudly in his ears, and a blush helped its way through his skin. This was Viktor. The same man that forged Yuuri into what he is now. It was as if all the saliva dried up in Yuuri's mouth. There was no way to describe the mix of emotions spilling in his head.

"O-Oh wow... this is..."

"—Yuuri I'm just so glad you're okay. I was worried. How've you been; is there anything new going on?"

Yuuri couldn't help getting that bitter feeling in his chest again. Thinking about _that_ night. What he said to Viktor, and, how there were still some things unsaid. However Viktor seemed to forget that the events even took place—retaining that goofy smile his face.

"I-I've been good. There hasn't been too much going on as of late. Aside from this, life's been okay."

When Yuuri finished his sentence, a glimpse of a fast-moving figure through the window moved in his peripheral vision. The door to the room swung open, and in the doorway, stood Miyumi—hair wild and clothes wrinkled—breathing heavily, eyes full of worry.

"Yuuri! Oh my God! You're okay! Thank goodness..."

She rushed to the opposite side of the bed. She went in for a hug. Yuuri lifted the arm where his ribs didn't cause him pain and hugged her back. And, Viktor just looked on, quite confused about what was happening.

"Sorry, Miyumi. I didn't mean to scare you. How did you even know I was here?"

"I didn't! I called your phone several times, and you didn't show up to the hall! You weren't on the train—nothing. So I asked around and a couple people told me that you'd almost been robbed! They said you were carried here... so I came here to make sure you were okay."

Yuuri just smiled at the worried woman, running her hands through her hair, trying to regain her composure. Again, Viktor glanced at the dark-haired man conversing with someone he didn't know.

"Oh, y-yes, Miyumi; Viktor was the one who came into town. He brought me here too. This was my coach when I was still skating." He gestured his hand to the blonde, who just casually waved.

The brunette stopped panicking enough to realize who was sitting beside Yuuri. Her eyes flickered, showing a good amount of surprise, and bewilderment.

"O-Oh dear... there are just too many surprises happening! H-Hi, I'm Chisato Miyumi! It's such a pleasure to meet you in person!"

Viktor smiled back. "As well as you."

"I meant to ask you, Yuuri; how are you getting home? I really don't recommend walking out there alone again..."

Viktor interjected, "I'll take him home. Just tell me the way Yuuri."

Without a word in edgewise, reluctantly, Yuuri agreed. He was going to be in for a long night. Especially with Viktor around.

 _..._

A few hours later, Yuuri was discharged from the hospital. The doctor gave him some painkillers to deal with his ribs. He also wore a brace to limit some of his movement so that he wouldn't injure himself further. Miyumi, Yuuri and Viktor, said good-bye to one another—each getting into their own vehicle and heading in the opposite direction.

Viktor drove down the highway while Yuuri gave him directions. The car ride is smooth and quiet, with little words being shared between the two. Viktor admitted, the silence was unnerving. So he started a conversation.

"I just have a question Yuuri."

Viktor's voice interrupted the stillness in the air, causing Yuuri to go on guard for a moment. He was still a little uptight, given that Viktor was here, and he still didn't know the appropriate words to say.

"Y-Yes?"

"If you don't mind me asking this; is Miyumi your girlfriend?"

If Yuuri could've chuckled—he would, but, he felt that this was a serious moment and held it in. He had a slight blush form on his cheeks while an awkward smile appeared on his face.

"N-no she isn't... she's just my assistant Viktor. We're just friends."

Viktor's delivery was flat when talking about her. It urged displeasure, but—attempted to be hidden for Yuuri's sake. The younger man didn't think on it anymore than he could.

"Assistant?"

Yuuri also forgot that Viktor didn't know where he worked at. It _had_ been five years after all.

"Y-Yes. I work at a ballet studio. I... I teach lessons to those who want improve their skill. I had to find someone to help me out. And she was the best choice. She has a degree in performing arts and dance; we also get really great feedback on her. Wh-what's the matter, where are all these questions coming from?"

The smile returned across Viktor's face. "I just wanted to know what you were doing; it has been a while. I wanted to check in on you."

"—A-ah, okay. Where's Yurio? I thought he'd be with you."

"No, he's at the rink practicing. When I spoke to him, he did wish you regards."

Yuuri was a little shocked. His bad attitude is usually what keeps him from doing anything nice. But—with time—things went along as they should've. The car became silent again. There wasn't too much to be said. For the younger man, it was a bit disheartening. His own feelings were getting in the way of what actually was happening. His mentor, his coach, his _friend_ —was right beside him and his words were stuck. It pained him. How badly Yuuri wanted to express his feelings. It stung. How was he supposed to say it or approach it? This nauseous feeling took over every time he thought about it.

"Is there something on your mind Yuuri? You've been eerily silent this entire ride. We're going to be in this car together for a while."

Yuuri's mind thought of the first thing. Two weeks after the Prix. A chilly night. A night that he didn't want to remember at all. How his lips pleaded for the phrase that would fix it all. Yet, the anxiety overwhelmed his thinking. And the words never left his mind.

"N-not really... that I can think of at the moment."

"It's been so long, but it still feels like that younger man I trained before, is speaking for you right now. I love that about you though. How you just stuck with who you were, not letting anyone influence you. I adored it Yuuri. And now—seeing how you've grown, makes me feel great. Like I've done right."

Viktor took his eyes off the road for a moment to glance over at the dark-haired man in his passenger seat. How his hair fell past his ears, in a messy bob cut. His glasses always enhanced those brown eyes of his. Even more-so complimenting his slimmed face. His body, like some sort of god, kept a beautiful figure that even the blonde could notice while he was sitting down. Yes, indeed it was a marvelous sight to see.

Viktor continued, "You've grown into a handsome man."

Yuuri's blush seeped through his skin; his entire face turning crimson. Once again, his breath caught. The words jammed in his throat.

"Th-thank you..."

It was adorable seeing Yuuri smitten. If Viktor could, he'd tease him all night. But, he knew it wouldn't be long before he had to leave Yuuri. And, with sadness now creeping in his heart, he continued to drive in silence.

 _..._

The pair approached Yuuri's home. It was now late in the evening. Yuuri and Viktor both exited the car. The blonde walked beside Yuuri, up his walkway, and to the door where they froze locked on each other's eyes.

"We-well, this is it. This is my home." Yuuri gestured his hand to the door giving a half smirk indicating little surprise.

"I didn't know that you still lived in your hometown. I can say, this is a beautiful home you have here. I missed a lot while I was gone."

Yuuri just gave an awkward shrug.

"Can I see you again? Please. I'm in Tokyo for a month; I don't want to leave without spending time with you."

Again, his cheeks filled up with blood.

"Y-yeah... you can come to the ballet studio tomorrow. Help me out a little. I'll give you the address."

"That'd be wonderful Yuuri. I can't wait to see you already."

Yuuri heart thumped wildly in his chest. The thoughts in his already clouded mind—scrambled. He took out a map that Miyumi drew a while back when he started working there. Viktor took it and put it in his pocket. He takes a free hand, caressing Yuuri's face; bringing him in close enough to where he could feel Viktor's breathing.

"Goodnight Yuuri."

* * *

 ** _Yup. You knew it was going to happen. You knew I had it waiting for you_** — _ **my cliffies never fail. But I hope you enjoyed the third chapter and I will be releasing the fourth sometime soon. I have to get my thoughts together so give me some time.**_

 _ **See yah,**_

 _ **Rhye.**_


	4. A Kiss Goodnight

_**I'm back. So, I was watching the most recent episode of Yuri! On Ice; again, it's taken my breath away. With that being said, I'll be releasing the fourth chapter today. I'm pleasantly surprised that everyone's liking the story so far (really, it's much appreciated). Happy reading, and enjoy.**_

* * *

 _..._

It was like life took a turn. Yuuri was now experiencing that same feeling, five years ago, when Viktor first said he'd become his coach. Seeing the blonde once again added meaning to waking up in the morning. It no longer meant that—when he rose in the morning—to perform the same routine as he'd done every day prior to seeing his former coach, that boring feeling would set in. He wouldn't think that the day would be the same. Eating, sleeping, drinking—it would, somehow, regain all its flavor. The bitter thoughts, and emotions, washed away. He performed his morning routine; putting on some jeans and a white shirt, and the same dirty converse he wore to the studio—donning his coat, and scarf, collecting his bag for work—heading out the door to resume the rest of the day.

Yuuri proceeds down the stairs, grabbing his house keys, and opening the door. Once he closes it and locks it behind him, he turns to face the road, finding a familiar car parked in front of his walkway. A black, mid-sized vehicle, that was foreign to Japan. Yuuri squints his eyes trying to see if he'd recognized it from anywhere.

The car door swings open, and out pops a blonde head. The figure turns around, and it is Viktor, standing there flailing his arms with that same silly smile on his face. Yuuri couldn't help but chuckle, walking down the steps, reaching the car in little time.

"You... remembered where I live?"

Yuuri couldn't help but be a little surprised—considering how horrible the older man's memory is.

"—Of course! How _could_ I forget? I came here to pick you up."

The dark haired man noticed how Viktor's cyan irises flickered with excitement. Even though this was a typical thing—it appeared that—Viktor was elated to do it, when truthfully, it didn't make much of a difference to anyone else.

"O-oh, we-well... thanks. I wasn't expecting you to do that. I thought you'd meet me at the studio."

"I wanted to see you again. I couldn't get you out my head."

A blush creeped across Yuuri's cheeks. His words—suddenly—becoming putty on his tongue.

"Ah-ah, ri-right. We-well it couldn't have been _that_ bad."

"—But it was. I was so excited I could hardly sleep. You've grown so much, and even more beautiful than before."

Yuuri's entire face bloomed bright red. He hid his face behind his scarf. His eyes darted away from Viktor's, and instantly made contact with the sidewalk. There Viktor was again, teasing the younger man into utter speechlessness. Yuuri had no reason to object, or deny. He just sat there and blushed, the blonde looking upon him.

"Vi-Viktor... saying such things a-again..."

"—You aren't denying anything I'm saying. Which shows me that you believe it to be true. Come on, you're going to be late."

Yuuri let the time slip past while talking to Viktor. He checked his phone and saw that it was a little past 7:00 am. He rushed to get in the car throwing the bag in first—him climbing in shortly afterward. As he sat down, Viktor followed in, closing the door and turning the ignition. Viktor looks at Yuuri and smiles again. Yuuri obliges.

Yuuri did think it a little strange. With Viktor here, this morning was brighter than all the others.

 _..._

They both pulled up to the studio. Yuuri left the car, while Viktor mingled around, trying to find somewhere to park in the already crowded city. The dark-haired man entered the building, Miyumi greeting him at the front door with a grin stretched across her face. Her hair was placed in a bun, with her black tights, and black long sleeve shirt already on. However her shoes were not on her feet; but, Yuuri didn't question it.

"Yuuri! You're back! Are you feeling okay? How are your ribs doing?"

"They still hurt; the doctor gave me pain medication, and a brace, so that I could at least come to work and finish up."

Viktor waltzed through the front door, Miyumi's brown orbs dashing their way to his tall figure. Yuuri's attention was also brought to Viktor as he scanned the hallway.

"Viktor! I didn't know you were going to visit! That's amazing!"

"—It's nice to see you this morning, Miyumi. I told Yuuri last minute, so I'm not surprised that you wouldn't know."

The brunette turned to Yuuri. "Well, it's good that he's here. We kind of need the extra help. Maybe he could help out the group we're still struggling with."

Viktor just chuckled at Miyumi's remark. "I see that this is going to be quite the adventure."

The trio walked down the hallway to enter the studio. The group was already there waiting for their teachers to arrive. Once Yuuri popped his head through the door, the room erupted into coos from anxious females awaiting his return. They surrounded him, and all he did was smile and greet them casually. Viktor stayed outside, observing closely. Viktor noted how popular Yuuri was with females. He'd never thought Yuuri would've let people come so close to him—given how he wasn't a touchy-feely person. The changes in the younger man astounded Viktor—and it made him awfully curious to see more.

"Alright, alright you all! Stop crowding around Yuuri like that. Don't want him to get all injured again."

The girls followed Miyumi's directive and each went to their own spot on the floor. The room instantly became quiet.

"So, once again, you're going to work on form! I know you're all tired of doing it, however, you all are too stiff! Especially you men back there! It's like watching two cardboard boxes rubbing together..."

The two young men looked at each other with a disappointed expression. Their heads faced in the opposite direction.

"Also, we have a guest in today to help us out. I'm pretty sure you all know who this is—"

Miyumi turned her head to the blonde standing just outside the doorway. She nods her head, letting him know that it was okay to come in. Viktor walks through the door, with his hands on his hips, smiling at the crowd before him. His presence instantly made the room break out with excited mummers.

"—Viktor Nikiforov will be our guest! Please be courteous and don't smother him with your affection; he has to be somewhere too!"

Viktor bowed his head and waved to everyone.

Yuuri then began to speak up. "Since form is something that Miyumi wanted to demonstrate; I decided that I'd show you some of my past sequences to help you understand what she means."

Yuuri caught everyone's attention when he stated that he'd do his old routines. It was jolting to say the least. The brunette looked at Yuuri, with her eyes full of worry again.

"Are you sure you want to do that? You know some of those steps require a lot of arm movement?"

Viktor put his hand over his chin—not intervening on the conversation, yet—watching what Yuuri would do. The blonde also had his doubts but he didn't want deny the younger man his conviction.

"I'm sure. I took the pills so they're helping with the pain. I know what I'm doing."

Miyumi had no further arguments—Viktor almost laughing out loud. Yes, what a _marvelous_ change it _was_. To see Yuuri taking on that same subtle confidence that sparked the older man. Oh, he _loved_ it. Yuuri told Miyumi to cue the music. He took his position at the center of the floor, while everyone else, stood at the sides to spectate. Viktor and Miyumi stood up front.

Once Yuuri was ready, Miyumi turned on the music—that had striking similarity to his previous composition. The way the piano played, growing in intensity and then softly falling, took Viktor back to that moment when he stood on the sidelines of the rink, espying from afar. Yuuri gracefully danced—showing very little hints of injury or pain.

Captivated, everyone could not take their eyes off the dark haired man, floating effortlessly across the floor. Viktor, by far, was most impressed. Yuuri managed to take his sequences off the ice and turn them into dance moves. Viktor wondered how long it took him to master that. Yuuri's body majestically took the entire floor as his. He was so nimble, despite his body size. The agile twists and spins, supposedly to resemble the salchow; entrancing those who watched. The seductiveness of his facial expressions. The beauty and elegance in his form. He did everything _perfectly_.

Miyumi took her chance to speak, even if everyone was too enthralled to pay attention.

"You see how his body flows with the music? How it seems that he floats and flies across the floor? _That's_ form. Along with unity. There's a beauty with fluidity. Not rigidity."

Viktor nodded his head. She was definitely right. Yuuri still pranced, following the rhythm of the music. It seemed as if time stopped when he got up there. No one could take their eyes off him. And, once he was done, the room surged into applause. Yuuri just bowed and Miyumi went to stand by him.

Miyumi looked to Viktor—who was still stuck in his own thoughts of Yuuri. "Hey, you want to come say something?"

With little apprehension, Viktor walked up to the pair and simply said, "Other than that was absolutely amazing; you took the words right out my mouth."

The dark haired man glanced at Viktor, for the umpteenth time, with a blush forming across his cheeks. He couldn't help it. Even years later, Viktor's words still meant so much.

 _..._

Later on in the day, around 5:00 pm, Miyumi, Yuuri and Viktor went their separate ways. The day was fast, but quite joyful. Yuuri enjoyed the time he spent with Viktor. He appreciated having him around. Life was feasible in his eyes. Viktor drove Yuuri to his house, and they talked idly while on the ride. Simply put, it looked as if their relationship—hadn't been shaken at all.

Once they approached Yuuri's house, the same ritual happened as yesterday. The pair walked up the walkway—gazing into each other's eyes once they stopped at the door.

"We-we're here again... I guess this is goodnight?" Yuuri smiled at the older man, chuckling while he spoke.

Viktor's eyes suddenly changed. They didn't have that same enthusiasm as this morning. His facial expression, too. He had a pout playing at his lips, and cheeks lost some of their color.

"I don't want to leave you."

The phrase was so passionate that Yuuri's words stopped in their tracks. His face reddened. His brown orbs taking their sights somewhere other than on Viktor.

"Every time I have to leave here, it hurts that I can't be there with you. I don't want to leave your side."

Viktor clasped onto the hands that warmed his. He held them up to his face and kissed them. Yuuri stood there, speechless. The blonde's bright blue eyes staring into Yuuri's face with devotion.

"Vi-Viktor..."—was the only word that left Yuuri's mouth as he stood there breathless.

"I don't want anyone else to have you. To see you like this."

Yuuri couldn't explain it. Viktor was acting strange all of a sudden but he didn't know why. And then, the hands that held him, pulled the younger man into a deep embrace—Yuuri's arms crushed between himself and the older man. His eyes widened. Viktor uttered the words into Yuuri's ear.

"I never want to leave you."

* * *

 _ **Ohh. It was getting kinda emotional there. Well, there goes the fourth chapter. I hope you enjoyed it as much as I enjoyed writing it. I should be producing another chapter maybe by next week but I don't know I tend to get kind of busy during the week. But I'll see you around.**_

 _ **Bye-bye,**_

 _ **Rhye.**_


	5. Soap

_**Hey there. I'm back for another chapter. I'm glad that you all have enjoyed it so far. I don't have too much to say, other than enjoy the story, and also that the plot will start falling into place in these next few chapters. Happy reading.**_

 **A/N*: I sincerely apologize for the wait. I had a case of writer's block and I wasn't doing so well. The only way for me to get through it is to let it pass, until I get the motivation to start up again. I hope you enjoy because I'm a tad rusted.**

* * *

 _..._

Yuuri went to bed that night with Viktor in his thoughts. The events that played out fresh in his mind—carving into the deepest crevices in his conscious. It was difficult, knowing that, Viktor retained his feelings for him. It was almost a relief to the dark-haired man. He'd thought that Viktor hated him. The anxiety ate away at him—not knowing for sure—whether the blonde would ever want to see him again. In some ill-fated fantasy that cycled in his head over and over _and over_ again, virtually taking over his very thought process. It was all him. And that night he tossed and turned; hoping, that in the morning the dreams of his former coach would recede. Eventually, the morning did come with no haste in its rising.

When he did open his eyes, revealing the deep brown irises to welcome in the dawn—it was met with a searing pain in his right side. The ache started from his ribs proceeding down to his hip. Yuuri could not move.

"Oh, god no..."—Was the strained moan that left Yuuri's mouth discovering that he'd moved far too much in his sleep.

His tender ribs didn't allow for much movement; furthermore, the pain he was supposed to feel from yesterday morning's demonstration seemingly caught up to him. _Slowly_. His painkillers were also on the dresser. To the right of him, a little ways away from his bed. Much to his dismay, he wouldn't be able to reach, nor get up to get the bottle. And that hurt the most. He had no choice but to contact someone to get him from his bed.

Just when the thought crossed his mind, from his nightstand, his cellphone rang loudly in the stillness of his house. Luckily, it was just near his bed. He reached for the phone, trying not to upset the already throbbing side further. He looks at the screen with blurry sight. Without his glasses, he can make out the name. It was Viktor.

He easily brought the arm back to him. He puts the phone on speaker. The discomfort was evident as he answered.

"Hello?"

"—Yuuri! Good morning. Where are you, I came to pick you up; but you're not out here."

By some sort of divine intervention, Viktor was waiting outside for Yuuri to take him to the studio. The blonde, however, was unaware of the pain Yuuri felt.

"Vi-Viktor... I can't move. My ribs..."

"What? What happened?"

"I... was sleeping and I... woke up, the pain came from nowhere... I need you to help."

There was a loud sound of Viktor rushing up the steps to get to Yuuri. The call hung up. He heard the sound of his front door opening and shutting loudly. Yuuri's room was on the second floor. Footsteps shuffled on the carpet and they came running past his door. Yuuri pushed out Viktor's name. Breathing, for the younger man, was strenuous. It was debilitating. The door swung open and Viktor's concerned face pops in.

"Viktor... the bottle. On the dresser..."

Viktor does as Yuuri asks looking to the wooden dresser to the right—and there were Yuuri's meds, sitting quietly. The blonde snatches them from their place and kneels at the bedside.

"Do you need water?"

"—No..."

Viktor takes the lid off, takes out two pills, and feeds them to the younger man. He closes the top, and shortly afterward, places them on the nightstand. Yuuri breathes a sigh of relief.

"M-my door was unlocked?"

"Yes it was. You seemed to be in a rush to go in the house yesterday evening. I suppose you forgot to lock it then."

"A-ah... yes. Thank you."

Yuuri, after some minutes, sits up in his bed. He didn't want irritate the ribs even with the pain medication. It seemed that Yuuri learned his lesson from that—the hard way. And the two men just sat in silence, neither one finding the words for simple conversation. The dark-haired man's eyes just casually looked around the room, tapping a finger against his leg, waiting for something to happen—and finally, Viktor eases the silence.

"Yuuri? I have a question."

"—Y-yes, what is it?"

Viktor licks his lips. He sits his hands on the bed. His cyan irises losing some of their glow. His face had that same expression that it did yesterday. Whatever the question was, he was afraid to ask it.

"It's been on my mind for a while—"

Viktor pauses, showing obvious distaste.

"—why... did you decide to quit skating?"

The younger man's heart skipped a beat. He turns his eyes away from the blonde facing his now interlocked hands. His palms become sweaty. It had to be now that Yuuri's anxiety kicked in. He didn't know what to expect from this conversation. Still, he tried to answer as best he could.

"Vi-Viktor... we already went over this. I-I wanted to be on my own for a while. That's all."

Yuuri didn't want to talk about that night. Every time he thought about it, those memories would come back—eating away at his very core. Nothing could amount to the pain he felt.

"But that's not all there is to it, is there? There _has_ to be another reason, right?"

"N-not if you're trying to find one Viktor..."

"I'm not. I just want to know why Yuuri. Why you let all that time go to waste."

Yuuri admitted, he was getting a little annoyed with the blonde's persistence. They were having a good time together—so why should that matter?

"...I didn't let anything go to waste Viktor. You saw me teaching ballet to those students. It's not like I'm wasting away or anything. So why is this even being brought up? I thought you'd already forgot about it."

"Yuuri I could never forget about that. And why can't we talk about it? It's been five years but there are things that haven't been said. You're choosing to avoid the conversation when I _know_ that you've been thinking about it."

Viktor, too, became peeved by Yuuri's unconscious carelessness. He wanted to know why. After those years of standing beside him—coaching him, teaching him—now it's as if it's all been swept under the rug. Like the time they spent together never existed. It burned Viktor.

"O-of course I've been thinking about it Viktor! I didn't want to talk about it because I thought we'd put it in the past."

"How could we put something like _that_ in the past Yuuri? Yes, it may not look like I'm hurt, and by God, I _tried_ to keep it in but when I saw you I just needed to talk to you."

The two men were unaware that they were beginning to yell at each other as the debate heated up. On either side, neither man was sure of what they were thinking. All they knew was the shared pain.

"I wanted to be on my own; I couldn't keep sucking up your air."

"How could you, when I wanted you to Yuuri? Please, just explain it to me, I'm begging you."

"Viktor... just stop."

Yuuri turns his head away from Viktor. He didn't want the argument to continue on any further. It was all going so well. This is the very thing that he feared. Meeting him in person and this is the only reaction they'd have for each other. It was bittersweet—as if time had caught up with the pair. There wasn't anything that Yuuri could do to avoid this. As much as he'd want to; he can't run from this. It's just something he had to embrace with reluctantly open arms.

"...It was me, wasn't it—"

The words bled emptiness—Viktor's eyes twinkling with tears, nose and cheeks turning red.

"—It had to be. I hurt you didn't I?"

The sentence crushed Yuuri's heart; as if a fist reached within his soul and ripped it from his body. The saliva mounded in his throat lobbing up to where it almost felt like he couldn't breathe. Again he looked at the blonde, eyes nearly watering themselves. Viktor's anguished expression, voice shaking holding back sobs. Surreal. That's all Yuuri could think of. He never, _ever,_ thought for a second that Viktor—his idol, his symbol of strength—would feel this strongly. Most importantly, that it was his fault.

"Vi-Viktor it wasn't..."

And there it is. It wasn't a single word Yuuri could say. It was an awful feeling brewing in his chest. Being speechless to the blonde's pain.

"Don't you lie to me. It was me. I hurt you, and I... I'm so sorry."

His voice caught in his throat. A sharp hick and the words, once again, stopped. All Yuuri could was stutter. A fish gasping for water is what he could say it was. Lungs burning for air, chest heaving for comfort. How he prayed this could end.

"I hurt you... and you left me."

And slowly, the tears began to fall.

* * *

 _ **Hey welcome back to the real world. I hope you aren't crying because we don't need none of them tears flooding your keyboards. On a more serious note,**_ _ **I hope you enjoyed this chapter. I am bit rusty, so I feel like I didn't do so well, but it's okay. As long as someone enjoyed it it's fine. I'll see you in the New Year for the next chapter.**_

 _ **Rhye.**_


	6. Moonlight

_**Hey everyone. I'm back for another chapter update. I'm glad everyone's been enjoying the read, but what's even more surprising is this: only 3,000 views but nearly 64 favorites and 100 follows. You guys are fucking awesome. I appreciate it. So, I'll have you know that a smutty chapter will be coming up in the latter future. But for now, we're going to take a trip in the past this chapter. Enjoy!**_

* * *

 _..._

There was no words to describe the way Yuuri felt when he walked away with that medal. It was more than good. Even more than amazing. There were so many tears. Yuuri lost count of how many time he cried then. Viktor, too, had his share of watery eyes looking at his protégé soar higher than he'd imagined. Truly it was a sight to see. How much dedication Yuuri had even when felt like giving up, even when his body told his time was coming to an end. When all was said and done, all his dreams came true, beautifully with gleaming lights and sparkling ice.

With the night still high with excited jeers and gestures, exposed to thirty degree weather and snow-covered ground, it wasn't long before the duo strayed off from the crowd. They were both tired. The talk of the win still mingled between the pair, unsurprisingly, it was just about the only thing they discussed. And when they got back to the hotel, they let their minds rest. The pair wanted to save their energy for tomorrow. Viktor wanted to enjoy the last few days of his free time with younger man.

When the morning came, Yuuri woke up before Viktor who slumbered peacefully on the other side of the room—skin radiating its subtle glow to greet the sun. The younger man, however, didn't give off the same aura that the sleeping man did.

Yuuri's tired eyes revealed dark circles and baggy skin. His cheeks lost their color. His hair was a mess—all the while proving that, the dark-haired man did not get a good night's rest. Instead, he spent most of it tossing and turning, unable to get comfortable enough to slow his mind. There was a problem. A large one, at that. And Yuuri had no idea how to tell Viktor of his issue. Yes, of course, Yuuri enjoyed his time last night—there wasn't any other day he'd wish to be like it.

Though there was this nagging feeling—it ate at him. No matter if the younger man tried to push it aside, it would still be there. A little mosquito buzzing around his head pecking at his skin. Yuuri didn't want to ruin anything, nor did he wish to hinder any progress in their relationship. But, as with all those reasons swirling around, giving him every _good_ reason not to open his mouth—he couldn't help himself. It wasn't anxiety... there was just a need to end things.

A need to call it quits. To tell Viktor that he didn't want to hinder his career. It hurt to know that Viktor left Russia to train Yuuri. It was a brave and quite thoughtful thing to do, yet, Yuuri felt that Viktor needed to follow his own path. Just as before. Maybe... they could be rivals. Maybe they could still be friends beyond this point. However he wouldn't know until he brought the idea to light.

The younger man sat up in bed and grabs his glasses off the nightstand. He turns to where Viktor's bed is and faces that way to get out. He swings his feet around letting them dangle off—and when he reaches to wake the blonde—he just opens his eyes slowly revealing the cyan orbs behind them. Viktor shuffles for a moment, trying to wake himself up.

"Oh, good morning Yuuri... you're up rather early I thought you'd be sleeping in today."

Viktor yawns. He sits up putting a hand over his mouth while stretching his other arm and back. Yuuri watches as the muscles ripple in the blonde's ribcage and abdomen.

"G-good morning Viktor. I would've slept in... it's just that I had a hard time getting to sleep."

Yuuri looks down at his sweaty palms. His thumbs are going around themselves in circles. His lips are going dry. He simply had to say it. Just bring it up as a suggestion.

"Really? That's not good. I have a lot planned for us today; are you sure you don't want to just stay in and sleep?"

"N-no, it's just that... something's been on my mind these few hours. And I wanted to talk to you about it."

"Yeah, what's going on?"

The words suddenly caught in Yuuri's throat. His palms clammed up, and he almost felt like he wanted to choke on his own saliva. His eyes dipped and darted around the room, his heartbeat thumping wildly in his ears. He was surprised that he wasn't shaking with how nervous he was. Viktor was open to conversation, but this one was different. They were discussing careers. And how it would be done—was the real issue.

"Vi-Viktor... how would you feel—if I were to retire?"

The question made the blonde's eyebrows furrow. He sat up in bed revealing his body to Yuuri. It was mystifying, and Viktor's expression showed that.

"...And where did this come from?"

"I'm just wondering Viktor. If all this... is somehow hindering your progress."

"Yuuri you already know the reason that I came here. I still don't see why this is being brought up."

Viktor had a point. The reason why he came all the way from Russia, is in-fact, because of Yuuri. He was the answer to Viktor's lost motivation. He was the missing link in his life. He was the one that would fix his slump and why he felt that he just wasn't good enough—for himself or his fans. Yuuri taught Viktor how to have passion again. And whenever he'd think of how far he's gone—it would almost bring a tear to his eye. Viktor longed for feelings such as these. To want something so badly and never want to let it go. It was hard being numb all the time.

"Viktor I-I'm just saying, I've already won the medal—you've got your wish, _we_ got our wish! So what's the point of continuing on, while you're career is in jeopardy?"

"Is this what you think I'm here for? The medal? The praise and accolades? Is this why you think I'm here Yuuri?"

"—Vi-Viktor you're missing the point!"

Whether it was anger, or disappointment, Yuuri couldn't tell with the way Viktor quickly moved out his bed revealing his naked body. He went to grab a white robe that hung from a coat hanger next to the bathroom door. His body language indicated annoyance. However, this was a matter of importance to the younger man. And Viktor, seemingly, didn't want to hear it.

"Yuuri, you're being incredibly unreasonable. We could still keep this going; I didn't do this for praise. I did it because I genuinely wanted to help you. I decided to come here. My career... it doesn't matter right now. What matters is you. You and only you."

"...That's not fair Viktor—"

Yuuri could've burst into tears. He felt as if his words meant nothing. Viktor wasn't seeing eye-to-eye with Yuuri—and that was a problem. He hated arguing, but damn it, if it would get the older man to see clearly enough, then so be it.

"—How can you come here, and not worry about your own career? I'm tired of slowing you down... maybe it's just time for this to be over. Why can't you just accept that?"

The blonde became absolutely silent. The atmosphere around the pair became increasingly awkward. Viktor couldn't find the words for Yuuri. But it wasn't because he had nothing to say—it was painful to say the least. He wanted Yuuri to know how much he cared for him. However, the more Viktor begged Yuuri to change his mind, the younger man refuted. It was the most difficult thing to grasp. Yuuri wanted to quit. After all this time and effort put into his performances, into his confidence and character. All of it would be gone if Viktor agreed.

"...We'll talk about this later, Yuuri."

"—Wh-what? Viktor, you still aren't liste-"

"I said _later_ Yuuri."

The deep voice that overtook his, made his own, stop. Yuuri couldn't fight Viktor. On either side, no one was winning. The disappointment in Yuuri's heart—it took him to a place where he'd never thought he'd be again. Where he'd be fighting for something he couldn't win. It stung. The pain in his chest sent his body reeling. The nauseous feeling in his stomach turning. This, was by far, the worst feeling he'd ever known.

The feeling of loss.

 _..._

After their disagreement, Viktor left without a word of where he was going. Yuuri just sat on the edge of his bed, looking down at the carpet, tears welled up at the corners of his eyes. This thing—this thorn at his side—a nail, piercing through his skin. Aggravation, exhaustion—whatever other emotions were left in him were all spilling out. Yuuri didn't think that Viktor would be this apprehensive. That he would be this unwilling to hear his plea. That wasn't all; Viktor obviously went somewhere, without telling the dark-haired man where he went. Which was another cause for worry. The conversation affected the blonde so much that he left Yuuri alone, in his own raging thoughts.

The younger man didn't know how long he'd been sitting down. Evidently, it was for a while. The sun moved to its afternoon position. Viktor, still missing from the hotel room. How many hours had it been? Three—maybe four? He'd been gone ever since this morning. It seemed like forever that he was wandering outside, either drinking or hanging out with other ice skaters who'd stayed behind before heading back to their homes. Yuuri also took of note his relationship with Christopher; the overtly sexualized, competitve man that had a peculiar interest in Viktor. He admitted; he was a bit envious. He wished that he could have that same confidence.

Maybe, that's why the darker-haired man is compelled by others' strengths, rather than their weaknesses. He saw how Viktor touched each one of them—even when the others had their own explanation behind why they favorited him. Possibly from Viktor's grandeur or just trying to win, it was clear that Viktor had his fingers wrapped around everyone that drew near.

The more that Yuuri pondered, the later it became. Afternoon slowly dragged on, the evening sun, shining its light through the windows upon the figure still sitting on the bed.

Viktor, still, wasn't there. Not so much as call, not even stopping back at the hotel. It was approaching nighttime. Yuuri decided that it was a good time to shower. He did just that. Not even putting clothes on, he just put on the robe Viktor threw across the room. He lays right back down in the bed, picking up his phone. The time was ticking by and Viktor wasn't showing any signs of coming home. The dark-haired man though of going to sleep, but his worries outperformed his tiredness. He wanted Viktor back—but with the way things were now... he wasn't too sure if it was possible.

 _..._

It was roughly one in the morning when Viktor creeped into the hotel room. Yuuri was still wide awake, however the lights weren't on, creating the illusion that he was sound asleep. He heard the sound of Viktor removing his coat, and putting away his belongings. With his heightened senses, he could smell the alcohol eminating from Viktor's body. He was out drinking. For how long, was the question that lingered in the younger man's mind.

The blonde tiptoed across the floor to his bed, and before he could sit down, a quiet voice interrupted the silence.

"Where've you been Viktor? I-I was worried about you..."

Viktor did not answer, continuing to do whatever he was doing before.

"Viktor I know you hear me... I know you've been out drinking. Are you drunk? Viktor, please—answer me!"

Viktor stopped shifting around. The room, becoming eerily silent once again. From the darkness, came soft laughter.

"...You're so selfish, Yuuri."

The laughter, shortly after, became subtle sobs that made Yuuri rapidly sit up in his bed.

"Wh-what?" The words perplexed the younger man, urging him to stand up. The light of the moon just so happened to illuminate Viktor's trembling sihlouette.

"You... you don't understand—you really just don't get it do you?"

"Vi-Viktor what are you saying right now, I can barely hear you..."

The blonde just turned around just enough to show his face to the man below him. He revealed the tears slowly streaming down his face. The lights perfectly aligned up to his cyan orbs glistening with tears. Seeing this sent Yuuri's thoughts into overdrive. His mind quickly eroded at the sight of Viktor shedding tears. It made his heart skip a beat and his stomach dropped.

"Yuuri... please. Don't do this—I'm begging you. I don't want this to end. I can't bear to be alone again."

The words just caught in his throat. Looking at that helpless expression left Yuuri speechless. Yuuri was going to talk to Viktor about earlier—yet, it seemed the conversation affected Viktor, harshly. The alcohol only added to his emotions.

"Viktor... I-I..."

His words were shut off once again when arms suddenly found themselves wrapped around Yuuri's body. An embrace so tight, that Yuuri's breathing became sort of constricted. But Yuuri didn't want to leave. This... was something much more intimate. Something profound was happening. And Yuuri didn't know how to explain it. Yuuri finally managed to finish the sentence.

"Viktor, you know that this... couldn't last forever."

"—But, at least I could've tried, tried to make you stay. Please Yuuri don't leave..."

Softly, Viktor continued to sob in Yuuri's arms. The younger man stood there, frozen, not even embracing him back. It wasn't that he didn't want to. His body just wouldn't move. And Viktor, just as he sunk his sopping face into Yuuri's shoulder, he mumbled these words:

"I can't bear to be without you Yuuri..."

* * *

 _ **Well, this chapter was significantly longer than most. But I hope you enjoyed and I apologize for the long wait. I've been dealing with an array of health issues and possibly I'll be incapacitated for a bit. So you'll be getting longer release times. But there will be another chapter that will dig into the past some more in the near future. Again, hope you enjoyed.**_

 _ **See yah around,**_

 _ **Rhye.**_


	7. As We Were

_**Hey everyone. The author's comments won't be as long. I want to get right into this thing. Again, because of health issues, my release times will be slower. Just for time to recover. However, I hope you do enjoy this chapter because we'll be delving into the past again. I told you the plot would fall into place. You just had to trust me on that. But yeah, happy reading!**_

* * *

 _..._

The next day came with Viktor sleeping soundly on his bed. After last nights events, the older man found himself exhausted, passing out on the bed he was getting into in the first place. Yuuri managed to tuck him in, given how heavy the older man was when he slumped over him. The younger man returned to his bed and tried to get some sleep himself; but, to no avail. There wasn't any peace. There wasn't any comfort. No stability. Everything, in discord. After the display shown to him yesterday, Yuuri couldn't help but feel awful. Here he was, in Barcelona of all places, with the one person he's admired since he was younger. Again, as with everything else, he managed to fail him. Maybe Viktor wouldn't understand his reasoning for wanting to leave. But Yuuri knew, or at least he thought he knew, that it would be best for them to separate.

Yet, Viktor's vindication—it was in the way of what needed to be said. Yuuri would never get through to the blonde. It would be just his luck, if the older man were to agree to his plight. Viktor had his own premise—and they were justified. Yuuri couldn't deny that he'd come all the way to Japan, spited by his coach, training someone that had little hope at all of winning. For whichever reason, Viktor saw something special in the younger man. Something about him captivated him. Yuuri just couldn't figure it out. What made him so unique? What did Viktor see in him, that he didn't see within himself? It was baffling to him. He didn't know what to make of it.

He heard Viktor shuffle around in his bed. Yuuri's eyes were tired and red. He almost felt groggy with how sleepy he was. So badly did he wish to relax, however his mind was telling him the opposite. The conversation yesterday needed to be settled—even without Viktor's approval. Yes, it's selfish. Even so, there was no other way to get around Viktor. He would still be convinced that Yuuri should continue on.

 _..._

Viktor woke up a few hours later. He sat on the edge of his bed. The white sheets seemed to enhance the color in his skin. His naked body shimmered in the morning sun's scintillating light. His platinum-blonde hair, also, took on an angelic aura. Every strand radiated. Yuuri's eyelids, not even for a moment, thinking of closing. Staring at the man's body. There was nothing else that he could do. His own wasn't allowing him to sleep. Even when exhaustion heavily weighed on his being—insomnia was its victor. Yuuri tried to remain as still as he could, trying not to disturb whatever was going on with Viktor.

"Yuuri. I know you're awake."

The voice forced Yuuri's eyes to open wider. Yuuri bit down on his lip, hard. He could feel the blood pumping through the veins in his bottom lip.

"It's okay, you don't have to say anything. I'm sorry about yesterday... I wasn't myself."

The younger man continued to keep his mouth shut. He didn't know what to say, but Viktor knew that his eyes were open. He tries his hardest to remain quiet, sinking his face deeper into the comforter.

Viktor continues, "You... have a life you want to live right? Well, I won't stop you. I've decided that you can go another two tours and then; you can go home."

The words made Yuuri's ears twitch. Not in delight, but, with some sort of disgust. Like hearing a high-pitched ring, that makes you cover your ears. Something so displeasing that it makes your headache when you hear it. It sounded as if Viktor had to force himself to say those words. He didn't want this to happen. Yuuri knew this but he didn't know what to say. His lips were parched—the inside of his mouth, stale and tasteless. Despite all these happenings, Yuuri muttered a sentence from underneath the sheets.

"Vi-Viktor... you don't have to do this."

"Then why Yuuri? Why did you say all that to me? Am I just—"

The blonde paused, and turned his head. The tears, just barely stayed in place, at the edges of his eyes. The sunlight shaded off the side of Viktor's body facing toward Yuuri. All Yuuri could see is Viktor's sorrowful face. The sight alone, forced Yuuri from his cocoon. He still had on the white robe used after he got out the shower yesterday. He sat up in the bed. His legs, so deeply wanted to inch their way to the weeping man on the other side of the room—still, Yuuri wouldn't budge. Even so, his body commanded him to move. His mind and body were two separate entities—fighting over one thing—Viktor.

"—Am I just not good enough Yuuri?"

The tears fell from his reddened eyes, bit by bit, the sadness from his heart—emptying itself. Yuuri had to find a way to sate his own feelings. Seeing Viktor like this is too much.

"Vi-Viktor..."

When Yuuri said his name, his face coiled. The tears wouldn't stop falling. The younger man still had his tongue caught in a knot. He just sat there, rooted to his bed. The muscles in his legs tingled. His insides felt as if they were turning. His anxiety—once again—sunk its teeth in him.

"Why aren't you saying anything? Yuuri, why won't you speak to me?"

The dark-haired man's voice instantly gave out. Loudly, he shouted for Viktor in his mind. Outwardly, his body was in a trance—eyes rapidly looking around the room, not even focusing on the crying man in front of him. His brown orbs, immediately filled with tears. He felt his body's weight crush him. Viktor was waiting for him, and Yuuri was failing him. His greatest fear—stood right in his face—and still he froze right in the middle. He couldn't fight it.

Viktor stood up. He walked over to Yuuri, whose catatonic glare fixed itself to his feet. He knelt in front of Yuuri, taking the younger man's chin within his hand, urging his teary eyes to look up at him.

"Yuuri—"

His lips trembled as he uttered the name—the name that drove him to the brink of helplessness. His cyan orbs looked deep within Yuuri's, not even taking them off for a moment. Viktor leaned in close. Yuuri could feel the blonde's breath against his face. The pair gazed in each other's eyes; almost, as if they were pleading. Pleading for one another. Viktor tilted further, lips brushing against those foreign to his own. The darker haired man dared not move. The sensation his mouth got from Viktor was hypnotizing. He felt so faint in this embrace. So weak, but, so wanting.

—And the mouths melded into one, solid piece. Yuuri's eyes slowly gave way, blurry vision taking their place. He felt the tears streaming down his numbed face. The room so silent, their heartbeats were the only thing making any noise. The kiss deepened, and Yuuri's body fell back on the bed, Viktor still sucking on his tongue. The robe, so happened to separate, exposing Yuuri's tanned chest, now turning pink from sudden arousal.

His mind screamed for mercy—while his body begged for more—and once Viktor removed his mouth, only then, did Yuuri find a means to breathe again.

"Vi..."—the only word Yuuri could murmur, was the first syllable in Viktor's name. His mouth felt so limp—his eyes still flowing fresh with tears.

Viktor just gazed deep into those beautiful brown eyes that mesmerized him from the very start. And, with hope sounding in his shivering voice—he only said this.

"When you leave here, Yuuri—when you leave me; remember this moment. Remember that I... loved you first."

 _..._

* * *

 ** _Well there you have it. Another chapter finished, more cliffhangers, and lots of tears. It's okay though. You'll be fine I assure you. More of the plot will be explained in the next chapters. As promised. I do appreciate all the support I'm getting from everyone, I really do. I hope you enjoyed this chapter, and I'll see you around for the next one._**

 ** _Bye-bye,_**

 _ **Rhye.**_


	8. To Be Made Whole

_**Hey again everyone. I hope you all are enjoying the story so far. Don't worry, it's just going to get even more emotional from here. Yup, you guessed it. More tears for everyone :D. But seriously though, we're going to come back into the present time with these chapters now. I do hope you like these. Happy reading.**_

* * *

 _..._

It'd been at least a week when Yuuri last saw Viktor. No call, no message, not even so much as a single stop-by. Nothing. Once again—it seemed that life did just what it had to. Viktor and Yuuri were fated to have this conflict. There wasn't any way to avoid it. Yuuri could only deal with the pain of knowing that his coach, would never speak to him again. It burned him— so much that the entire day after the last argument, Yuuri did not eat. Slowly he began to sink back into his old feelings, of loss, and failure. And now, his life has sadly, returned to its dingy normalcy. Waking up, showering, eating. All this... lost its meaning. Without Viktor, all this, meant absolutely nothing. Viktor, the light of his life—now dimming as the month passed, knowing that he would soon return to Russia. To be with Yurio, permanently.

It troubled Yuuri immensely. To think that the only coach, the only person, who _truly_ believed in him—would never come into contact with him again. The sheer thought of it, mortified the dark-haired man. To the extent of tears. Every thought was of Viktor, even as the day came with full force—bustling cars, flocks of people all surrounding him, all the noises of the city echoing in his ears. Never once did his mind travel anywhere else, other than where Viktor could be or could've been. Yuuri was sick to his stomach. Everything didn't feel right. Nothing was the same. Or at least, it returned to where it should've been.

On the train, Yuuri casually listened to his music, blocking out the loud sounds of the train screeching across the tracks. He wasn't paying attention to anything. Not one person caught his interest. In his own world, where no one could interrupt him. The barriers around his heart slowly began constructing.

Yuuri suddenly felt two taps come across his right shoulder. He didn't bother to look over. He just ignored whomever it was standing behind him. A high-pitched voice came through his headphones, disrupting the flow of his music. The voice sounded familiar, although the man didn't take initiative to see who it was. The person moved around to the front of him.

A brown flash moved in his sight. It was Miyumi, already dressed in her gear for the studio. He hadn't seen her in quite some time—not until after the holiday. Maybe... someone who was like Viktor could fix the growing emptiness in his heart.

"Hey, Yuuri. You're acting kind of strange today. You usually call me when you're on the train but you haven't been too expressive!"

Miyumi gives a smile to the older man, her rosy cheeks rising up to her eyelids. Yuuri, reluctantly returns one. Even if it was forced.

"...A-ah, I-I didn't notice. It may just be, because I'm tired."

Miyumi tilts her head and peers around. She curiously scans Yuuri's face. Looking at his deep brown orbs, his cheeks—at his neck and chest—observing every aspect of his person. It made the man feel somewhat awkward, given how close she was. Her expression signaled worry. Her eyebrows were curled up. A pout crept across her lips. Her face showing some form of distaste in what she saw.

"—You look awfully pale. You've also lost some weight too. What's going on with you, are you sure you're okay?"

Yuuri didn't quite understand what she said. He felt that he was fine. There wasn't too much happening, other than a queasiness that hadn't stopped since yesterday. However he wouldn't tell her that, for fear that she would become even more concerned. Yuuri plays it off with a chuckle, hoping it would surfeit any other issue she found.

"I think you're just going crazy..."

Miyumi didn't take Yuuri's comment lightly. She just turns around and faces the other way toward the train window. They continued most of the ride in silence.

 _..._

As they approached the building, Miyumi made sure to keep a close eye on Yuuri. She wasn't exaggerating—he looked ill. His skin lost some color, especially around the facial area. There were bags underneath his eyes. He'd lost some weight. You could see a little bit more bone coming from his skin. He didn't have the calmness around him as he did before. Something was wrong; but the dark-haired man denied any part of it.

Yuuri held the door open for Miyumi. She thanked him kindly, as he walked right in behind her. He strolled into the locker room—opened his locker—shortly after, started to change his clothes. The same outfit as before. A black V-neck t-shirt, with grey sweatpants and some dirty black converse. The dull colors only added to his pallor. He stuffed the bag inside the locker, and slammed it shut. When Yuuri entered the studio, the students were already there.

All the talking, the noise—his ears were ringing. The sounds were muffled. Close to what it sounds like with earmuffs over his ears. The students resembled brown and tan blobs that levitated on the floors. The room... didn't feel quite right. Yuuri walked very slowly, trying to maintain balance.

The brunette looked to him, face etched with distress. She marched up to Yuuri, extending her arms to help.

"—Yuuri? What's wrong? You're stumbling all over yourself! Do you need to go to the hospital again?"

Yuuri remained unresponsive. The room tilted from side to side, taking Yuuri's body with it. The nausea slowly took over, bringing his body down to the ground on one knee and hand. The students looked on, disturbed, seeing their mentor sick.

Miyumi raised her voice, to where even Yuuri could hear. "Yuuri! What's wrong? Talk to me, damn it!"

His mind screamed for her—although his mouth, never moved. Something was extremely out of place. Miyumi shouted, trying to assist him. Yuuri's body was too heavy for her to hold him up.

"Yuuri! Somebody help me please!"

 _..._

When Yuuri came to, he only could recall being at the studio. Now, he's in a hospital bed—at the end of an IV drip. The lights were blinding, as they were before. He scanned the room, having no clue, as to how or why he ended up there. Miyumi sat by his bedside, her right hand up to the matching side of her face, running it up and down. Her hair—that was so neatly tucked into a bun—ruined. The strands were all over the place, some sticking to her face from loose beads of sweat, while others floated about her head. Tears found themselves in her eyes, as she looked at Yuuri laying there completely unaware of his own health.

Soon, the door opened, and female doctor came in. She had dark colored hair, and deep brown eyes. For her height, which was a little short, she was on the chunky side. Similar to his last visit, she wore a suit. It meant that she may have been the leading doctor there at that point. She closed the door behind her, giving a half smile to the confused man below. She gave her name and shook his hand vigorously.

"Well, I see you're alert. Do you have any idea or recollection of the day, month and year?" The doctor inquired, taking out a clipboard with pen chained to the side, ready to take down her results.

Yuuri's face curled up a bit. He wondered why she asked such juvenile questions. Perplexed, he found a way to answer her.

"Yeah, it's January... the 20th. 2017."

The doctor scribbled, the pen writing rapidly across the paper. "Okay, that's good. Do you know how you got here? Do you remember anything about the ride here?"

'Um... no I don't."

She took some more notes. She walked over to the heart monitor that toned calmly and took down his vitals. "You feel lightheaded, any numbness or tingling in your limbs?"

Yuuri shook his head.

The doctor stopped writing and put her free hand in her coat pocket. She placed the clipboard by her hip. "Okay, Katsuki-kun, all your vitals are normal now. When you came in here, you were out of it. You had no idea where you were. Do you think you've got any explanation behind this?"

Yuuri put a hand over his chin. There was a lot of uncertainty behind this episode but he's never really had any problem with his health—just up until now. He shook his again, signaling a stern 'no'.

"Well your friend here told us you looked a little pale earlier. You seem to be a bit dehydrated. It's possibly from all that sweating you've been doing. Which leads to me to ask; have you had any nervous breakdowns in the past? Any anxiety-related happenings?"

The dark-haired man could think of several times he's had 'anxiety-related happenings'. Most of them due to Viktor and him being in town—just being near in general.

"Somewhat. B-back, when I was skating. I've had a couple... breakdowns I guess."

"—Hmm I suspected so. Well, I'm justified by saying that you had a moderate anxiety attack. From any event that causes you high amounts of stress, or worry, you've got to limit them. Or you'll have more days, such as this one. I've also decided to put you on some medication, if in the near future, something like this happens again."

It was unsurprising. Yuuri had a feeling something was off, but he didn't want to upset anyone. Apparently that didn't stop that from happening. After the doctor left, Miyumi sat in silence for a bit. She began to shake, clasping her hands together in front of her face.

"Yuuri, what happened to you? You've been acting funny all week; you think I wouldn't notice when something's off about you?"

"Miyumi, I didn't think I was doing that badly; I had no idea my anxiety was this bad!"

The brunette exhaled sharply, openly expressing her disbelief in Yuuri's words. She knew something was wrong. Yuuri covered it up—and she was very aware of it.

"Yuuri, you nor Viktor, showed up last week. You didn't even call me and tell me that you weren't coming. Something had to happen, and you're going to tell me, because now your health depends on this."

Instantly, Yuuri silenced himself. He didn't want to tell her, although she already knew, that events took place between him and Viktor. He felt that she wouldn't understand even if he tried to explain it to her. She was right, though. If he continued to hold all these emotions in, assuredly, he would crack again—and reluctantly, he told her what happened.

"Viktor and I... got into an argument. He started to cry... and I didn't know what to do, I couldn't speak!"

"How did this start?"

"...He started talking about a night after I won the Grand Prix. He... wanted to talk about it; but I didn't know that he felt so strongly. I didn't know at all..."

Miyumi leaned back in her chair, her deep brown orbs staring at the ceiling. She sighs again, looking for some sort of rebuttal.

"What did you do when he started talking you about his feelings?"

The question toyed with Yuuri's mind. He thought about what happened. But, he couldn't remember what Viktor said. Apart from him breaking down into tears, he couldn't remember anything else. And that said enough. Yuuri didn't have the words for Miyumi. So he stayed silent.

"You didn't even pay attention to him, did you?"

 _..._

After his visit to the hospital, Miyumi sent Yuuri home for the day. Yuuri had quite enough stimulation for the day. There was nothing else he could do but recover—Miyumi wouldn't let him return if he didn't. Still, hours after the conversation between the two, her words still stung. She was right. Right about him being inattentive. It was the most subtle form of disregard that he could've ever done. But he didn't realize that he'd done it. He'd placed his own feelings before Viktor's. And it cost him nearly everything.

From his bed, he grabs his phone from the nightstand, unlocking it and pulling up the social media apps. He scrolls through the pictures of him and Viktor. All those beautiful memories that he managed to keep fresh in his mind—but he couldn't even remember what Viktor said.

He scrolls past a picture of them after the Prix. Viktor standing to the left of him, with his tan trench coat over top a black suit. He had on his leather gloves while he held his stuffie of his dog in his free hand. Yuuri stood on the other side, dressed in full gear. The sequin so bright the camera could barely reflect the color back into the lense. He looked at the smiles. All the lights and the cameras. He looked at the medal resting on his neck. It stood as a present memory that meant so much.

It was hard to say goodbye to something that could be fixed. Now, it was time for Yuuri to listen.

* * *

 ** _I'm finished you all!. I hope you enjoyed the chapter. I was typing my ass off, so now I'm taking a break for a bit and giving my brain a rest. I should be releasing another chapter the week after next. So until then, I will see you later!_**

 _ **Bye**_ **,**

 _ **Rhye.**_


	9. Evermore

_**Hey everyone I'm back. Good news is, I'm feeling a lot better. There really isn't any bad news, so... yeah. But I am happy to say that I am now releasing the ninth chapter, and I do hope you enjoy because there'll be some more steaminess coming up soon. Other than that, happy reading.**_

* * *

 _..._

Yuuri started off the next morning earlier than usual. He had plans to see Viktor, whether Viktor wanted him to or not. It's been almost two weeks, and he hasn't heard a peep from the older man since that unfortunate event happened. Yuuri had full intentions to set the record straight; there was no other way that he'd take it. At this point, he had no other choice. His health, although back to normal now, was still in a mysteriously urgent state after a random anxiety attack jeopardized his day. He knew he had to get to the _actual_ root of his issues—and that was, unassumingly—Viktor. The blonde was the only one that could tap into Yuuri's most hidden emotions. This incident only proved this point further.

That, Viktor indeed, had a powerful latch on the younger man's heart. There's no denying or fighting it—this, simply put, was all that she wrote for Yuuri. He _had_ to find Viktor, and tell him how he really felt. Everything was dependent upon this stalwart action. If he didn't do it now, Viktor would be gone; and, undesirably, Yuuri would have no chance of ever seeing him again. He would be forced to live in shame of what he'd done, only adding to his stresses. This is the last thing Yuuri wanted from his life. It would go against everything he's ever felt for his coach. To blatantly disregard his feelings, would be absolute betrayal in his eyes—and that's one thing that he wouldn't want Viktor to feel.

Why, if Viktor had to live with something like that in his heart, Yuuri knew it would change their relationship—indelibly. For this time, for Viktor, he set aside his fears and went to find him. And the only person who would know where he is, is the person he's least likely to get along with at the moment.

 _..._

Yuuri traveled back to Tokyo, going to that same hotel that he was nearly robbed at some months ago. Of course, a small amount of discomfort set in, knowing that he couldn't be as uncaring as before. It's likely to get him in the same situation he was in before—and he wanted no parts of that. He approached the hotel, doubt slowly encasing his thoughts. He knew that Viktor wouldn't be there. It would be too obvious. To unwind, Viktor usually became a nomad. He wandered wherever he would be located until he found some sort of entertainment.

Once he entered the lobby, he stopped to sit down, in a chair not too far from the entrance. The only person close to Viktor, other than Yuuri himself, was Plisetsky. Most likely he'd be in the hotel, or he'd be at practice. None other than those two places. Yuuri had a feeling that he was here but he just wasn't sure of himself. There were too many 'what-ifs' and 'buts'.

What if Plisetsky _wasn't_ there? What if he never got in contact with Viktor? How would he live with himself, with that much regret resting on his person? Was it really going to be worth it in the end?

The dark-haired man quickly found himself on the horns of a dilemma. His anxiety, as usual, got in the way of what needed to be done. He had no time for internal conflict. Viktor was waiting for him, intentionally or not, and Yuuri had to get to him before it was too late. He sunk his head into his hands, nearly accepting defeat.

And just when those shades of doubt crept into his conscious, a familiar voice halted them.

"—Oi, pig. What're you doing here?"

The slightly demeaning tone. Those condescending words. Even the sound of the voice made him look up for just a moment, to see if his mind was deceiving him.

"Hey, damn it, did you hear me? Why are you staring at me like that?"

Nope—it wasn't, not in the very least. It was Plisetsky, in the flesh, talking down to Yuuri as he usually did. The stunning changes that took place in his appearance, threatened to trick Yuuri's memories of him.

His hair shorter, glowing bright blonde. His blue eyes, that resembled Viktor's, took on this devaluing expression when looking down at the man below. He was taller, still, not taller than Yuuri—even so, it was noteworthy how much he'd grown. His cheeks lost that youthful chubbiness it had before, slimming down into its mature stages. His skin just seemed to radiate, even when the lights in the lobby burned a dim orange. He was dressed in black sweatpants and sweatshirt, skates thrown over his right shoulder carelessly. Yuuri was taken aback by this sight. It almost made his eyes ache.

In his disbelief, Yuuri managed to make a sentence. "A-ah, hello Yurio. It's good to see you, too."

Plistesky rolled his eyes into the back his head, showing some disinterest in Yuuri's kind greeting.

"You still didn't answer my question. What're you doing here?"

Yuuri just took his disregard as a sign of meaningful conversation. "I'm... looking for Viktor."

"—He isn't here. Besides, even if he was I doubt he'd want to see you right now."

The words coming from the younger man's mouth bothered Yuuri. He was unaware that Viktor was affected this badly. He'd just have to get through Yurio's insults to find Viktor.

"Is that so? If any case, could you still tell me where to find him?"

Plisetsky scoffs incredulously at Yuuri's persistence.

"—Tch, are you an idiot? You just heard that he wouldn't want to see you right now. You're wasting your time."

Yuuri admitted, he was becoming increasingly annoyed by Yurio's attitude. It's quite evident that it hasn't changed over these now, six years since he's last seen him. He would just have to prove that he wasn't going to be talked down to. So, Yuuri stood up from his seat, looking down on the younger man below.

"Yurio, I came here to have an honest talk with you. And if all you're going to do is waste time, then I'll go find him myself. It's either you don't know or you do. Which is it?"

Yuuri's resoluteness was somewhat surprising to Plisetsky—his slightly widened eyes showed that clearly. He scoffs again, turning his back on the older man.

"...Come on. We'll talk at the rink."

 _..._

Yuuri looked on as Yurio skated gracefully across the ice. He had to give it to him—his skill has improved, his past performances having nothing on his new ones. He looked as if he owned the ice. Something came over Yuuri when watching Plisetsky skate. Nostalgia found its way into Yuuri's mind, thinking on how he used to enjoy gliding on the floor, all his inhibitions seemingly melting away there. He remembered becoming a different person. Someone sensual, confident, and determined. It was almost as if his own spirit gravitated toward the ice, calling him to just skate. For old times' sake.

Nevertheless, the darker-haired man was aware that his skills were, possibly less than adept now. He would have to teach himself to apply his ballet to the ice—again. It wasn't an easy process. That, itself, took some months to master. Still, it made Yuuri feel a little better, observing his past rival from afar. After a while, the music stopped, and Yurio returned to the sidelines to get a drink of water. He climbs up the bleachers to where Yuuri is, and sits beside him.

The two men are silent for a moment, Plisetsky casually sipping on his water here and there. He looks at Yuuri with stern eyes.

"...Well?"—was the only word that left the blonde's lips.

Yuuri, all but confused, replies. "We-well what?"

"What'd you think of the sequence?"

The question played with Yuuri's mind. It was shocking that Yurio would even ask him for commentary on his skating. The proud Plisetsky now learned humility—which amazed Yuuri.

"I... I thought it was great. You've improved a lot."

The younger man blew out a sharp sigh, signifying a sort of relief toward Yuuri's genuine words. Yuuri, on the other hand, had to let out a chuckle, making the other man tense up for a moment.

"What're you laughing at?"

"—I'm just surprised that you'd ask me for my thoughts. It's a little... funny."

Again, Plisetsky goes quiet, as to agree with the darker-haired man sitting beside him. They both sit in encompassing silence, the sounds of other people talking fading off into nothing. The pair stare at the ice, while still acknowledging the other's presence. Once more, the blonde breaks the still air with his voice.

"Yuuri." Plisetsky calmly says Yuuri's name, catching the older man off guard. It'd be the first time, in a while, since he was called by his name. Especially by him.

"Ye-yeah?"

"—Why'd you quit? Skating, I mean."

This would be another first for Yuuri. Having an actual conversation with Yurio. The older man couldn't help but still be astonished at his maturity. Since the conversation seemed thoughtful, Yuuri decided to tell him.

"I... I wanted to be on my own for a while. To just, take a break from all the pressure. I... kind of felt that it was just my time to finally branch off and do something great on my time. I was also concerned about Viktor's career. I didn't want to damage it... b-besides, he'd already come all the way from Russia just to train me. So, I thought that he should focus on himself."

Plisetsky thought about what to say before opening his mouth. Yuuri could almost see the gears turning.

"Viktor," He starts off the next sentence with a softer tone. "was hurt... Hurt that you left. He hasn't been the same."

Yuuri said nothing. He turned his eyes away, looking at his feet, guilt-ridden.

"To answer your question from earlier; no, I don't know where Viktor is. I haven't seen him in about two days. He hasn't called, nor did he reveal where he was going. All I know is that, he said he'd be out for a few days. He commonly takes little vacations to clear his mind. But this—this one felt different."

Yuuri remained silent. The regret ate at him. He couldn't believe Viktor wouldn't tell Yurio, his trainee, where he was going. This matter grew a little more serious, the more the younger man explained it.

Plisetsky continues, "I didn't get the chance to ask him about what happened. I usually just leave him alone, but something's been eating at him. And it has a lot to do with you retiring. He hasn't been the same since then. He fell into depression, taking to the bottle more than usual. He only slowed down when I came and asked him... no, _pleaded_ him to become my coach. But, even still, we don't have that same spark that you and he did."

It was heartbreaking to hear all this coming from Yurio. He, too, was affected by Yuuri's actions. Had it not been for Yuuri leaving Viktor alone, he would not be subjected to Viktor's disappearances. Truly, it worried him.

Yuuri finally gathered the words to speak.

"S-so... what did he tell you? Or, what did he say about me, if you've ever talked?"

"When he'd come back to the hotel hammered, when we didn't have any programs or anything, he'd cry. He would tell me how it was his fault that you left. Genuinely, Viktor believed that whatever he did, made you leave. He really thought it was his fault. For a while, I held some contempt for you. Even though I didn't understand the circumstances, it still didn't make sense that you'd feel the reason to just... leave Viktor to feel that way."

It was understandable. Yuuri did something selfish. He didn't really think that this would be the end result. He'd only thought of his own problems, not considering that Viktor had feelings too. This, too, gave Yuuri all the more reason to find his former coach. Maybe it was just his anxiety playing games with him again, yet, he didn't want Viktor to get hurt. By anyone else.

"—I... I have to find him."

"That's easier said than done. Since I don't have anymore short programs to do, he'll be gone—at least, until tomorrow. That's when we start packing to go back to Russia. I'd really start considering options before that happens."

Plisetsky stands to his feet. He stretches, the bones crackling throughout his body. He puts a hand against his hip, facing away from Yuuri. He sighs before speaking.

"...Don't screw this up. I may not know what happened that night, but what I do know is this; he needs you. More than you know."

 _..._

* * *

 _ **Surprise, surprise! It's not the week after next, and there's a new chapter out. Hooray xD. Sorry about telling you that. My release times are solely dependent upon my health; but I've been feeling better as of late. So as a treat, I decided to release this chapter early. I do hope you enjoyed, and you**_ **should** _**see another chapter within the next week or so.**_

 _ **See yah then,**_

 ** _Rhye._**


	10. Roots

_**Hey everyone. I'm back for a new chapter. I'm sorry for the long wait, I've really been wanting to write but you know, I've been going through a lot these past months. But I'll still be writing this, so... do not worry. Please enjoy, and happy reading.**_

* * *

 _..._

Again, Yuuri woke up the next morning, although earlier than yesterday. Today was his only chance at telling Viktor how he felt. After that, there would be no more of this cat-and-mouse game. Yuuri would have no other opportunity at getting to Viktor. Even if he does have all the money, it would all be be for nothing; because Viktor just wouldn't be up to the test. If being in the general radius of Yuuri hurt him—he could only imagine what it would be like if he were to return to ease his stress, to come back to seeing the one person whose given him hell. Plisetsky's words touched Yuuri profoundly. It solidified his reasons for going to locate his former coach. Initially, Yuuri had no clue as to where Viktor could be. He's traveled the world, and Japan was no short-stop. However, Yuuri didn't worry his head.

Because it was obvious to where Viktor had gone—and Yuuri was going there—today. Back to his little hometown deeper in Kyuushu, where his parents own a little inn. Home to Hasetsu Castle; where there was a legend that the first ninjas originated from this hallmark. The memory of Viktor's smile upon learning this small tale, stayed on repeat in Yuuri's mind. Their first ever picture was there together. He _had_ to go back. Something in his heart pleaded him to go back. If it meant missing a few days at work, so be it. Viktor was far more important than his job. More than anything else in his world, was Viktor. Realizing took longer than it needed to, although, it did prove its point.

Yuuri couldn't do this alone. No matter how much of his pride he stored up in his being—he couldn't do it by himself. All his life, he'd felt completely isolated. Different than most. His anxiety kept him from the simplest of things. But, not Viktor. Anything but him. It posed too many risks. Either Yuuri faced his fears, or he would suffer in absolute silence over what he'd done. The guilt would eat him alive, and he knew all too well, that he wouldn't be able to live with himself. Shouldering that lonely burden—it would almost be like accepting his slow, painful death.

 _..._

The train ride seemed like an eternity—even so, well worth every minute of it. Seeing his hometown, just from across the sea, his mind couldn't help but feel relief. It was great to be back home. He hadn't heard from his parents in months. So why not surprise them with his presence? He knew that his mother, especially, would be ecstatic to her child for the second time. This event would definitely help to clear his racing thoughts of whatever they could bring forth.

It was funny to Yuuri, how over these past months, he's managed to build up more than an admiration for his former coach. He admitted, the feeling of finding him was stronger than actually talking to him. The emotions constantly switched. Just knowing that Viktor would be safe is satisfaction enough. Although, talking to him—just having a mere conversation would be gratifying. The feeling was hard to describe. It gnawed at his chest, slowly churning away. The longer Viktor say gone; the more it would tear at Yuuri's being.

When he did arrive to the inn, he found that little had changed. All the old decor still took its original place. It felt like yesterday, that he left this place to pursue his passion for skating. With the one man that would change it forever. Reminiscing on the past was something Yuuri knew well. He could count on his fingers how many times he and Viktor spent the night talking to each other. Staying up all night, talking about any and everything. Laughing until the sun came up. They thought it would disturb the sleeping family below, but no one woke up. So they kept going, until it was time to practice again.

He opened the door, and he called out for his family. "Mom, Dad! You in here?"

Just as he began to remove his shoes, the sound of hurried footsteps entered the room. The door swung open and his mother's head popped through.

"Yuuri! Oh, you're home!"

She rushed to him with open arms, her chunky frame bouncing around as she came up. Yuuri accepted this hug, as it was the only loving thing he'd received. It was warm and soothing. His mother was the only one that could make him feel this way. He did miss how he could just come downstairs and she'd already be there, cheering him on. It meant a lot, even if she didn't think it did.

"Yeah, I'm back for a day or two. Miyumi forced me to take a break."

His mother frowned, cheeks losing their rosiness. "Well, Yuuri we don't want to see you sick. Especially if we can't get to you. For right now, the only thing you can do is rest."

Yuuri reluctantly agreed to his mother's warning. She was right after all, Yuuri lives a little far off. So it'd be hard for anyone to reach where he is in time to help. It was the best bet to be home. Although the reasons were entirely different than what his mother thought—Yuuri didn't want to tell her that his only reason for coming, was to see Viktor; and he knew that Viktor stopped here. He may not be at the inn, but he's assuredly in town somewhere.

"Hey, um... have you heard from Viktor lately? Has he stopped here by any chance?"

"—Yes, he has. We were surprised though, we were expecting to see you with him but he's gone off to the rink now."

He had to get there before Viktor left. Idle chat with his mother was great, but Viktor seeped in his thoughts, threatening his judgement.

"Mm. Is he spending the night here?"

His mother scoffed, "Oh heavens' no! We don't have the space for that, so he's staying at a hotel not too far from here. He insisted on sleeping in that storage shed again, but I told him that he needed a bed. I offered him your room; but he just said no and left."

Yuuri wasn't shocked at all that Viktor declined the offer. That would remind him too much of Yuuri. Even sleeping in the same bed as he did once before would trigger those memories. He could understand it—how Viktor felt. Though there was no surprise behind Viktor's actions; Yuuri's heart couldn't help but cringe at the thought that he'd even reject his parent's kind hand. Yuuri didn't want his displeasure to be obvious, but, it challenged his very feelings for Viktor.

His mother's worried eyes traveled to her son's saddened expression. "Yuuri, is there something wrong? You don't look well."

"Yeah... um I was just thinking about some things. Is Yuko still working there?"

His mother's face perked up once again. "Oh! Yes, you just reminded me of something! Hold on for just a moment—"

She rushed her little figure into the other room, that lead to the kitchen. Yuuri curiously peeked through the door, leaning on his right leg to see better. She came shuffling back with a container in her hand, still lukewarm.

"—This is for Viktor! He asked for it before he left for the rink. I left it nice and warm for him. I don't know if you're leaving shortly to go see Yuko and the children..."

Yuuri nodded his head. "Yeah, just for this to stay warm I'm going to head over."

His mother takes her hands and places them on her son's cheeks. Fluffy like her own, lighter than her own tanned skin. Her wrinkles were growing bold, around her eyes and on her face. The eyes that were once a deep brown, are now starting to become a tinge of hazel. Her hair has a little more grey floating about. It was dawning on Yuuri that his mother was getting older. Times like these were precious. So precious. It meant the world to see her.

"Everything will be okay Yuuri. Don't worry. We will always be here for you, son."

 _..._

Yuuri found himself wandering down that bridge across the water, where the ice rink overlooked the calm sea. He could almost feel those times where he'd be gasping for air, running those four exhausting miles from his home and back to the rink. The cold, brisk, winter air piercing his pores nearly forcing all the water from his body. It was grueling, although, well worth it. Viktor made it all worth while. This life. His journey; all of it, meant nothing without him. Yuuri couldn't explain the pang that stitched itself into his chest whenever he thought about Viktor. His whole being was Viktor, his thoughts—Viktor, everything—was indeed Viktor. Something was going on in Yuuri's mind, and he couldn't quite put his thumb on it.

Walking up the steps to the rink, looking through the fogged glass, he inspects the inside. He hears someone walk up from behind but he doesn't look back to see who it was.

"Excuse me? Sir? The rink is temporarily closed for private practice. You can come back tomorrow."

The voice sounded peculiar. This was a female that was talking. Yuuri takes his head from the glass and turns his head. This beautiful, absolutely stunning woman stood before him, brunette hair flowing in the soft breeze that fluttered between the two. Her brown eyes mesmerizing, with creamy-colored skin to complement the tanned pea-coat she wore. Rosy, plump cheeks, with kissable, pink lips. Her curves were... tantalizing. Certainly, she's gained some weight, to associate with her perfect figure. The disbelief was written on Yuuri's frozen frame as he just stood looking over his shoulder, at this gorgeous woman.

"Oh my! Yuuri, is that you? Welcome home! Quickly come inside!"

Through his bewilderment, he managed to move. She unlocks the door, and invites him into the building. Yuuri's body temperature rose a few degrees, so he took off his coat and hung it on the coat rack by the door.

"Is that your lunch or something in your hand? Did you want to sit and eat before you went back?"

Yuuri shook his head 'no'. The name found its way to the tip of his tongue, after being stuck from surprise. "It's great to see you Yuko. You look amazing."

"Oh, stop it Yuuri; you'll make me blush. I'd have to say out of everyone else, you're the one that's grown the most."

Yuuri felt the blush forming in his cheeks. This _was_ his childhood crush, standing gracefully in front of his eyes.

"We-well... thank you. I appreciate that."

She looks at the container again, examining it closely. "Oh! I know who that's for. He's in there, if you wanted to go back and see him. Do you need skates?"

"Um, n-no that's fine. I'll just take it back there to him. I'm not really planning to stay for long."

"Oh okay. Well, it was nice seeing you Yuuri. Come back and visit anytime!"

 _..._

When Yuuri walked through those doors, he was hit with a wave of cold. Not because of the ice; but because of _who_ was on the ice. He saw Viktor's figure dancing around the ice. He was dirty, his clothes covered in water, possibly from falling. He appeared to be sweating. Yuuri didn't know how long Viktor was skating, but apparently, it must've been hours. He silently made his way across the bleachers, careful not to interrupt the man so carefully skating back and forth with unbreakable concentration. The moment of truth was here. He would either tell Viktor now, or watch him leave, and never return. There were so many things he wished to say at that moment, but, he didn't have the courage to open his mouth.

He reached sidelines where he sat the container down on the rim, leaning his body against it. Still, he looked on, entranced in the man skating. He dared not make a sound, for he felt that if Viktor discovered him there it would warrant unneeded action. He just watched as he jumped in the air, performing beautifully as he did once before. The thoughts of Viktor didn't subside, even though he was standing directly in front of him. The only spectator in a crowd of two. Viktor suddenly stopped, facing away from Yuuri.

"...Funny. I never thought that I'd be the student—"

Yuuri's mouth just as quickly went dry, as Viktor turned to face him. His eyes were tired and red, face flushed of color. His hair was a little unkempt. Viktor simply did not look well.

"—And, you, my mentor."

* * *

 ** _Ohh, I finally release a new chapter, and then I give you a cliffhanger; why am I so mean? Well, I hope you enjoyed the tenth chapter. I've been going through a lot through these past weeks. So chapters will still be delayed. I sincerely apologize for long drawn out wait, but it happens. Soo, I should be releasing the eleventh chapter sometime later. I'm not sure when but it will be released._**

 ** _See yah,_**

 _ **Rhye.**_


	11. Insomnia, pt I

_**Well, I'm back for another chapter. We're getting closer and closer to the moment of truth for them and I think you'll like it very much. But no hints; just story-telling and all that other jazz. Anyhoo, happy reading and please do enjoy.**_

* * *

...

"I'm... shocked to say the least, Yuuri—"

The older man tilted his head to the side, his platinum-blonde hair falling in tandem. His lips pressed half a smile, dismayingly accepting the other presence that interfered with his own. Viktor seemed to be up for hours, eyes red and cracked, dark circles surrounding the supple skin below.

"—that you'd actually come and look for me. Was it that obvious that I'd come here?"

Yuuri's expression said it all. Mouth tightening, and relaxing. His eyes squinting for a moment, disgust readable in them. He couldn't even face Viktor. All the saliva in his mouth somehow retreated to the back of his throat. The feeling was suffocating—after all these years, the _real_ conversation was happening. No more hiding behind false unamity. This was the nauseatingly, painful truth. No matter how much he tried to evade it; this moment, would always find him.

Yuuri licked his sapped lips, chestnut orbs darting to the floor.

"...N-no. It wasn't."

Viktor snorts, trying to hold back incredulous laughter. The older man, himself, couldn't face his former trainee. Both of them knew, that after all this, there may not be a moment like it anymore. If by chance, maybe time could only tell. Even so, the apprehension—and the reluctance—spoke for itself. The moment may never come again. There was too much anger. Too much heartbreak. Neither man was sure of how this would turn out. At least it could be worth a simple try.

"You know Yuuri, you've always been a _horrible_ liar." Viktor found himself sliding closer to the darker-haired man. "Maybe you should work on that."

A coping mechanism. That's all it was. The only way Viktor could cope with this sort of uneasiness, was by making jokes, even if they were sarcastic. Yuuri was a little hurt. He knew that Viktor was affected by what transpired. This was the only way to try and relieve the discomfort. Yuuri remained silent. His head slowly turned its gaze away.

The blonde sighs. He rotates around, cyan orbs taking in the sights of his old memories.

"You want to know why I came back here Yuuri? It's rather simple."

The younger man gives a quick nod. The words weren't there, so tiny gestures would aid the process.

"It wasn't so that you'd find me. It was because... I thought that maybe I find a little piece of you, in where you've been; somewhere. Even as we speak, I could still remember watching you from the sidelines. Your demure attitude, and how you ran from me—but when you took to the ice, you were a different person entirely. I have to say, it still spices me up. I was in love with the idea of coaching you I'll admit, yet—"

Viktor pauses before turning to face Yuuri again.

"—something happened. I'd hoped that even after the Prix, even if you did retire, you'd still... keep me in your mind, _somewhere_. But, I was wrong. You'd moved on like nothing ever happened. You'd think it strange, after hearing such a confession, someone would at least try to mend it. Maybe, I'd thought that our feelings were the same. At one point, they probably were. Maybe I never had a chance from the start."

The silence that followed after Viktor's words—truly was stifling. The air around rigid enough to pierce. Time seemed to slow down—what felt like hours—had only been minutes in between. Other than the sounds of the air conditioning grumbling through cieling grates, the two men had nothing else to say at the moment. Being in the general space of one another deemed more than enough.

Something in Yuuri clicked. His heart felt ready to burst open. His mind ran on and on, trying to figure out things to say. What the older man was telling him, partially made sense, however the rest—positively exaggerated. The problem at hand was telling him without upsetting him further. Although quite impossible, still, worth a go. He broke the silence, opening his mouth to speak.

"Vi-Viktor, that's... that's not true."

"Then what is it Yuuri?"

"I... I still thought about what happened. Even when you did come back, my first thought was to apologize! But I didn't know how... I never forgot that night. It's the only thing I _can_ think about!"

Frustration was evident, as the blonde gave an exasperated scoff to the darker-haired man. "Tch, I can't believe that. I _won't_ believe that. If that's the case, the first thing you would've done is contacted me, hm? I told you already Yuuri, you're a terrible liar."

"Then what will you believe Viktor? What else do I have to say that will make this easier?"

"—Something that will help me sleep at night. Say something that will help me stop feeling the pain Yuuri. You see it too, don't you? I haven't slept at all. I'm not the same that I was before. And it's all thanks to you."

The last phrase hit Yuuri, faster than his brain could process it. Contempt laced Viktor's words, and inspite of his own conflicting emotions, it was apparent that the older man meant every bit of it. The sarcasm wound up being something other than comical. A dull pain made its way through Yuuri's chest. This didn't have to happen. If only the younger man had done something sooner. If only his anxiety hadn't clouded his mind, his fear and his inhibitions—all of them—keeping him from Viktor.

The sheer image of Viktor leaving again, drew the darker-haired man to tears. While he tried his hardest to keep them from falling, his sadness was too great. Viktor was the only one to give him genuine hope. Making him someone that he'd never dream he'd be. Without Viktor, all of this meant nothing. His whole existence, washed away like leaves down a stream.

"...You're not the only one hurt Viktor—"

Yuuri takes a chance to breathe, struggling to keep the rhythm together; his sobs, undeniably, taking over his every respiration.

"—I don't want to lose you; not again... I'm so sorry, I... messed up. I didn't know how to feel when you said it... It's only because I'd never known a feeling like that before you came into my life! Viktor you've done more than you could imagine, so—I beg you, don't give up on me... please! You're the only sanity I have left!"

The older man's turquoise eyes opened wide, confounded by the words uttered to him. More than that were the tears rapidly streaming down Yuuri's reddened face. From that moment, everything Viktor felt, scattered by this impromptu confession. How long he'd waited for Yuuri to truly say what he felt; and he didn't have the words to say back. He progresses toward the younger man, who stands there trembling, arms tightly compacted to his sides—hands balled into fists—dark strands of hair sticking to his wet face. The cumbersome urge to hold him ran through his body.

"None of this was your fault... It was all mine. I messed it up. I made you like this... I'm so selfish—"

Yuuri continues to cry, until the very whites of his eyes are a deep shade of pink, his brown irises turning hazel. His head throbs, ears thumping and ringing widly. Even so, Yuuri advances, knowing the stress will make him sick.

"I... I thought I could make it on my own! But, I was wrong. I needed you—and I still do! Nothing is the same without you. You—"

Before Yuuri could finish the rest of his sentence, Viktor already had his arms wrapped tightly around him. The warmth of his body against his altered his judgement. The younger man did nothing, frozen with fresh tears still flowing softly down his cheeks. They just lightly landed on Viktor's dusty black shirt, embedding their way into the fabric. The older man softly brushed his hand across Yuuri's hair, attempting to comfort him.

"—That's enough Yuuri. That's enough."

Though Viktor told Yuuri that his words were enough, the younger man felt that this wasn't. He needed to tell him more.

"Viktor... I-I'm so sorry. I didn't mean for it to be like this; it's not right... it just isn't the same, I tried and tried, it's just not working anymore..."

"Yuuri, it's okay. I understand. Stop crying already."

Yuuri didn't stop. He couldn't help himself. All these emotions he'd held in all this time found their way through, breaking the barriers he built up for the protection of his own heart. It wasn't surprising in the least bit; after all these years of pushing it to the back of his mind, it just came naturally, that he woudn't know how to stop it himself.

"Please Viktor, I'm sorry... don't leave me. Don't go... I—"

Viktor told him that it was enough once more. Yuuri felt the words there to say more, but he didn't know how to. And when he opened his mouth, Viktor leaned in close, kissing the lips that he so wished to all these years.

 _..._

It felt as if an eternity passed, as Viktor proceeded to deeply kiss the younger man. Yuuri's body submitted to the thrill, falling backwards to the plush wall. His lips simmered; a flame, igniting within his core. The soft moans passed through his throat, conveying indisputable arousal. He could feel his lower body reluctantly giving into the urges. His lower half cried out, aching for touch; and the blonde whose lips were fastened on his didn't make it any better. If he could fight the older man off, he would, but the heat from the kiss alone, kept him static.

Yuuri could feel Viktor's tongue touching every part of his mouth. It lolled around, picking places to ease its way through next. Whether it was far, in the back of his throat, or playing with his own tongue that hastily avoided it—Yuuri felt what he thought he did. Every time Viktor shifted or moved, his skin responded, goosebumps rising from the very place that was touched. The blonde noticed Yuuri's sensitivity, and decided to up the ante. He ran his fingers, up Yuuri's arms, both hands working their way around his body.

"Mmph! Uhn," were the moans that Yuuri forced from his mouth, as Viktor teased him. "Viktor! Wait!"

It was clear that Viktor no longer wanted to. _This_ is how badly he yearned to hold Yuuri. His tears didn't help either. Seeing an emotional, and vulnerable Yuuri—somehow managed to spark something in the blonde. He couldn't help himself. Five years Viktor waited for just this moment, and now it's here. Viktor finally broke the kiss, Yuuri gaining his ability to breathe again. The husky pants that left his mouth, only added to the older man's excitement.

Yuuri squirmed in Viktor's arms, trying to break free. This was unsuccessful, as his legs and arms were nothing but slop in the blonde's sensual embrace.

"Vi-Viktor, mmnh! Wa-wait... pl-please! Aah!"

"—No." Viktor asserted, taking his right hand up to Yuuri's chin, holding his head up to look him in his eyes.

Again, Viktor pushed his tongue into Yuuri's mouth, the younger man squealing from below. Oh, yes, Viktor could very well see the stimulation in Yuuri's glistening mahogeny eyes, lidded from arousal. He felt the hard-on twitching through his jeans, leaking precum sparingly.

"You don't even know how long I've been waiting Yuuri. Now that it's here—I'm going to show you better than I can tell you."

* * *

 _ **Oooh shit now. Well would you look at that. Another cliffhanger. I swear I'm just mean, and I know I am, and I'm not sorry. But I do hope you enjoyed this chapter, and clearly, as you can see it will be getting rather... sexual in the next one. I'll be releasing it within the next week or so. But I do hope you enjoyed it, and I'll see you around for the next one.**_

 _ **Bye-bye,**_

 _ **Rhye.**_


	12. Insomnia, pt II

**_I'm back for another chapter of this little story of mine. I do hope you enjoy this little blip I'll give you. It's going to get a little steamy so please, prepare your underwear and tissues accordingly. Oh, let me do this now, so people won't leap into their itty-bitty feelings._**

 ** _*WARNING*: THIS CHAPTER WILL CONTAIN SEXUAL MATERIAL AND LANGUAGE, BETWEEN A SAME-SEX COUPLE. IF YOU DO NOT WISH TO READ FURTHER, THEN CLICK ON THE LINK BACK TO THE FANFICTION HOMEPAGE TO SOOTHE YOUR DISPLEASURE._**

 ** _To everyone else; I bid you, happy reading._**

* * *

 _..._

"Viktor! Wait!" Yuuri cried out to the other man, who clearly didn't care for what was being said.

The blonde just looks up at Yuuri with those sky-blue eyes of his, instantly nullifying any other refusing statement. The younger man's mouth hung open, saliva finding its way back to his lips. If he tilted his head a little further—drool would've taken the chance to drip, increasing the embarrassment he already felt. The rink was quiet, only enhancing the sounds coming from the two men, leaned against the wall of the bleachers. Viktor's hands felt every part of Yuuri's body, reeling him deeper into docility. Yuuri couldn't understand, how Viktor could make him feel this way. The older man is barely doing anything; however, Yuuri's lower half is saying otherwise.

"—It's okay Yuuri, I won't take it too far. Consider this our little 'make-up' session."

Viktor nuzzled his face in the crook of Yuuri's neck, taking his skillful tongue across the sensitive skin aching for his touch. Chills creeped their way up Yuuri's neck, and just as suddenly taking a nosedive down his back. The sensation of this was indescribable, pressuring moans from Yuuri's heaving chest. They couldn't come out fast enough, for his lungs struggled to take in air, as fast it was leaving.

"Mmngh! Ahh—Vi-Viktor, ugh!"

A gentle hand caressing the younger man eased its way to his groin soaked in pre-seminal fluid—the light blue jeans nearly turning navy. Feeling this, Yuuri jerked, his chest caving and legs buckling beneath the pleasure. Viktor kept a tight grip of the erection, feeling the slow, sinuous pulse against his hand. His tongue kept moving, sticky saliva coating the parts he went over.

"Are you feeling it Yuuri," though it was an obvious question, Viktor knew Yuuri wouldn't know how to answer. "Does it feel good?"

"—Hngh! Agh... I-I don't, mnh! Know..."

"Would you like me to figure that out for you?" Viktor slightly twitched the muscles in his hand, commanding it to grip tighter for just a moment.

The action alone sent bliss throughout Yuuri's legs, him choking out a moan so passionate, it made Viktor do it again. The tighter he gripped, the more Yuuri writhed in his grasp. Just for a second did Viktor wish to pounce on him, all because of his tactile reactions.

"Viktor, _please_ ; nngh! Ohh..." The darker-haired man pleaded Viktor, unknowingly rousing him even more.

Viktor, despite Yuuri's gripes, didn't stop. There was so much more that he wanted to do with him, aware that Yuuri may just reject it. He was careful with his actions; testing, figuring out what the darker-haired man liked. He slid his tongue up to his ear, proceeding to lick the surrounding area, occassionally dabbing the inside. Yuuri trembled violently, the side of his head radiating with ferment.

"—You like that, don't you," Viktor's sultry voice spoke, the hypersensitive skin erecting in tandem. "You're shaking."

Yuuri's mind, undeniably, said 'yes' and so did his body. But Yuuri bit his lip restricting the word from leaving his lips. His moans were saying it all, voice shaky and weak—unable to contain the pleasure he actually felt. Without warning, Viktor lifted Yuuri's shirt, pulling it over his head so that it would not slide down. The blonde kneeled, taking his lips and brushing them against the younger man's chest.

The sight of Yuuri's body almost took Viktor over the edge. His chest sculpted to absolute perfection, amber skin somewhat pink from arousal. His pectorals perky and plump, while the nipples were rosy, asking to be tasted. Respledent wasn't the word to describe the beauty Viktor saw in Yuuri's figure. There were no words; only action. Viktor had no haste in extending his tongue to the nipples that stood so eagerly for him. And Yuuri melted to the feeling.

"Aah! Vi-Viktor, mmnh!"

The tongue twirled around, flicking, and biting it. Even his breath against it, made it stand on end. Viktor looks up at Yuuri, while Yuuri does the same. Mahogeny eyes glossed over from obvious satisfaction. Viktor's own turquoise orbs gazing up at him; Yuuri's lower body throbbed immensely. His body screamed for more, and evidently, his mind also fell into that subconscious desire. Overwhelmed by all the sensations gracing him at once, his erection twinged in the pants, beckoning orgasm.

His abdomen grumbled, the tingling starting at his abs, rapidly descending down into the hard-on. Yuuri knew it wouldn't be long. Still he tried to push Viktor off, which made him suck harder. The moans increased in intensity and succession, his legs sinking underneath his own weight.

"—It sounds like you're about to come. Are you that sensitive here?" Viktor stopped for a moment, mouth still touching the area. Yuuri moaned, feeling the reveberations of his voice on his nipple.

"Uhn! D-don't... mmngh!"

"Don't what, Yuuri? You don't like it when I do this?"

"N-no, aah! St-stop, nngh! T-talking... ungh!"

"Ohh, you feel that? Well then..."

Viktor began to groan himself, voice vibrating against the younger man's chest. Purposefully, of course. Yuuri's legs shook fiercely, erection pulsing harder, and faster. He felt the tip swell, groin pining for release. Just before the urge reached its peak, the sound of rink entrance door swung open, echoing past the two men. A voice called from high above them.

"Hey, Viktor! There's someone outside looking for you! They said it's urgent!"

Viktor craned his neck trying to see who it was calling. Yuko, stood at the top of the steps, appearing as a small speck to the men below. Luckily she couldn't see them; so it saved Yuuri the constraint. The older man whined, upset that he had to be interrupted—he was having such a wonderful time too—teasing Yuuri to the brink of insanity.

"Well, that's disappointing—and we were just getting to the good part... Looks like we'll have to end it here. I'll see you soon, Yuuri."

 _..._

Yuuri returned to the inn, around six in the evening, sticky and weak, body completely worn out. His mother asked him what was wrong, but he just said nothing and went to his room. The posters of Viktor didn't soothe the already throbbing erection. Just seeing him, even if it was a picture, did more damage then he thought it would. Maybe he could take them down. Even so, he knew that it would be too much work on his arms, which didn't have the strength to move anything but himself at the moment. Yuuri could already remember the touch of his hands, and the feeling of his tongue on him.

He dragged himself to the bed, legs heavy and tired. Still, the erection raged on, and something within Yuuri—deep within, remained intensely dissatisfied. Not only because Viktor never really said whether he'd stay or go; but also because... he _left_ him. Left him there to starve off his memory. It just wasn't enough. To remember is one thing, but to actually feel, is another. He didn't want to feel this way, but something in him; really, craved that feeling again. This sense of wanting, this profound discomfort—it hit harder than anything else. He almost... wanted to cry.

Just as this happened, his phone vibrated in his pocket. He removes it, focusing his still blurry eyesight on the screen. It was Viktor. A feeling of annoyance nagged at Yuuri, as he read the name. His mind so desperately told him not to answer, although he did, in-spite of his own feelings.

"—Hello?" Yuuri's agitation was traceable, as he answered the phone.

Viktor, on the other side, chuckled after hearing the younger man sound so displeased.

" _Is that how it is now? Are you mad at me, Yuuri?_ "

Yuuri didn't reply, the silence giving Viktor another reason to speak for him.

" _Are you upset that I didn't give you what you wanted?_ "

Yuuri felt a blush slinking across his face. The questions coming from Viktor's mouth weren't helping the cause either. Again, he didn't respond, keeping his feelings under radar until he needed to speak on them.

" _Come on, Yuuri. You know you want to say something._ "

"...A-are you going to stay here?"

Viktor went quiet. His respite made Yuuri nervous, adding to the idea that he may go back to Russia; the thought of Viktor leaving, once more, sending his anxiety sky-high. He didn't want this to be, but he did remember what Plisetsky warned him before. He was going back—and, he may never get the chance to see him. Purely by some divine intervention did Yuuri see him this occassion, however, the next time may not be so forgiving.

" _Hmm. That's a good question. My plane leaves tomorrow morning, so; I don't know if it's debatable or not Yuuri._ "

"Viktor you can't leave me like this—"

Yuuri caught himself. The words coming out his mouth evidently weren't his—but, those of his suppressed desires.

"—Ah! I-I mean... y-you can't leave me..."

The older man breaks out into hearty laughter. Knowing that his actions had an affect on Yuuri had him reeling. Especially of _that_ caliber.

" _Oh, so I can't leave you unsatisfied now? It's quite strange; I think you're starting to experience the feelings I've held in all these years. Then after seeing you, all of it came flooding back. It hurts, doesn't it?_ "

Yuuri's lips tightened, halting whatever argument he thought of next. Its striking similarity is something he overlooked. The feeling of abandonment. The dissatisfaction, the yearning for something that may not be there anymore—the topic eerily complemented Viktor's feelings. He admitted, this vexed him. The annoying feeling that nipped at him, continued to do so—only amplifying his displeasure.

"Viktor... I-I'm sorry."

" _You said that already. Remember Yuuri, I haven't forgotten my feelings for you at all. I told you that I loved you first. Nothing, not even this will stand in my way._ "

"Then why," Yuuri's voice broke underneath the sadness he experienced; all this time, he couldn't hold it together. "Why are you leaving me still? We could work things out—we could do so much more!"

Viktor scoffed. " _You know, you're sounding more like me by the second._ "

Again, Yuuri had to agree. This pain of knowing that Viktor may not be here, hurt worse than anything he's ever felt. He wanted—no, _needed_ Viktor at his side—he would have it no other way. His selfishness domineered his judgement.

" _Besides, you knew I only had a month. I understand that you want me to stay; but, I don't know Yuuri. I... just wished that you would've told me sooner. So, that I wouldn't end up leaving you like this. Being with you has been the light I've needed since the day you left. Hearing you and tasting you, all of it."_

The words leaving Viktor's mouth increased Yuuri's chagrin. He knew this, all of it, although; deep down, he didn't want it to be true. He was blissfully ignoring the fact that Viktor would be gone in a month. All of it seemed to breeze by when they were together. Time didn't even exist. This sense of loss, created nausea in Yuuri, his stomach churning and murmuring. It made him sick. How could he have been so naive? Things to say to Viktor raced in his mind, knowing that Viktor would have to go soon.

"Th-this isn't what I wanted for us Viktor... this wasn't part of the plan. Everything is messed up."

" _This isn't what I wanted either. But it's happening."_

Viktor paused for a moment. He sighed with disappointment sounding in his voice.

" _Yuuri, I've got to go now. Remember Yuuri; I love you. And only you. You're my first and only._ "

Yuuri struggled to fight back tears. "Viktor..."

Just as a tear streamed down his face, the tone echoed its beep into the still air, melding with Yuuri's quiet sobs.

...

" _So... that's what happened, huh?_ " Miyumi's voice was laced with empathy, as she heaved a sigh of discontent.

Yuuri didn't say much, other than with a grunt of approval to her question.

" _What're you going to do now?"_

"I'm going to stay at my parent's place for a bit. Just to get my head on straight. With all this going on, I don't think I'll be in solid condition to come back just yet."

Miyumi returned with a stern, " _Take all the time you need, Yuuri. I won't bother you. Enjoy your vacation, hun._ "

"Thank you, Miyumi."

The call ended, Yuuri sitting on the side of his bed. The phone toned out, while the morning air, stayed quiet.

* * *

 _ **...Whoo that took an unexpected turn. What? You thought there was going to be a happy ending? Well, by gosh by golly, it wouldn't be a story if it were to end that fast! And that cliche! However, I do hope you enjoyed this chapter, along with that little steamy part I threw in there for you. I'll try to push the next chapter out sometime soon, so you all won't completely lose your minds. But thanks so much for reading.**_

 _ **See you next time,**_

 _ **Rhye.**_


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